Not Enough
by hbwgonnabe
Summary: Finished! Expect the unexpected in this one and remember...it's an alternate reality.
1. Default Chapter

Joe Hardy's blue eyes followed seventeen year old Vanessa Bender as she danced to the soft music on the juke box with Roger, her long, ash-blond hair brushing against his face as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Joe's mouth tightened as he watched her chest rise and fall and knew she was sighing in contentment. How could she? he wondered, his eyes rolling and landing on the boy she clung to.  
  
Roger Billings was new in town. He had moved to Bayport the day after Joe and his year older brother, Frank had left town with their father, a former member of the New York City Police Department and currently a world renown private investigator, to stop the illegal killing of an endangered species for the animal's hide.  
  
At eighteen, Roger was a bit more debonair than he was, Joe had to admit. And the guy was good looking with his wavy brown hair and cool blue eyes which, Joe grimaced at the thought, seemed to be constantly on Vanessa. Too, Roger was safe. And that's the kicker, Joe thought bitterly, running a hand absently through his own golden locks. Vanessa wouldn't have to wonder where he was or even if he was still alive. Roger wouldn't have to stand her up at the last minute to stop someone from committing a crime. He supposed he should be glad that she had found someone she could depend on that wouldn't cause her grief.   
  
Vanessa hadn't even had the decency to break up with him before going out with Roger. Tony, the olive-skinned, dark headed son of the owner of the establishment he now occupied, had informed him that Vanessa and Roger had shown up together at Mr. Pizza his first night in town. That had earned her an immediate exile from the group of friends who had accepted her into their fold when she had moved to Bayport several months earlier.  
  
Joe, after being informed of Vanessa's duplicity, had driven out to the farm which the Benders had converted into a studio for Mrs. Bender's work with animation. There, he had found Vanessa and Roger kissing on the front porch swing. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He was NOT going to relive that scene. But it was really over between the two of them. Vanessa had a new boyfriend and had no room in her life for Joe and his chosen vocation.  
  
Opening his eyes, Joe let out a deep growl as he saw Roger's hand snaking it's way down Vanessa's back, his hand wrapped in her long tresses. He picked up his soda, squeezing the glass so hard his knuckles turned white but he was oblivious tot he sensation such an action caused. He took a swig and slammed the glass down. Letting it go, it toppled over and a stream of the brown cola made its way hastily across the table toward his brother's blond-headed girlfriend, Callie Shaw.  
  
"Easy, Bro," brown headed Frank scowled at his year younger brother. His brown eyes softened as he remembered why Joe was in such a snit. "She's not worth it," he added softly.  
  
"You got that right," agreed, blond and beefy Biff Hooper, Joe's best friend since moving to Bayport as a child. "Forget her. There are hundreds of girls in Bayport who have been dying for you to break up with Vanessa."  
  
"Sad, but true," concurred sandy haired, green eyed Phil Cohen. A year older than Biff's seventeen years, he had more in common with Frank but considered both hardy boys his friends. "Every girl I have gone out with has admitted to having had a crush on you at one time or another."  
  
"No way," Joe denied with a shake of his head. He couldn't believe a girl would tell her date something like that. And Phil, while not an athlete or even outstanding in the looks department, was a great guy with moderate good looks.  
  
"Believe it," moaned Tony. "I only started dating Barb after you started dating Vanessa."  
  
"That doesn't mean anything," Joe pointed out.  
  
"True," agreed Tony. "But her brother told me."  
  
"He was probably lying," said brown eyed Callie, trying to make him feel better.  
  
"He's six years old," Tony informed her. "He talks a lot. I mean, he probably never even heard of Joe except through Barbara in the first place."  
  
"I'm sorry," Joe said, looking even more depressed than he had previously, his friends attempts to boost his ego backfiring.  
  
"It's not your fault," said Karen Black, Biff's dark haired girlfriend. "You can't help it if you're one of the best looking and most popular guys at Bayport High."  
  
"If I'm such a great catch, why did Vanessa dump me?" Joe demanded, standing up as Vanessa and Roger passed their table holding hands. "I've got to get some air," he said, not waiting for a reply he wasn't in the frame of mind to believe anyway. "I'll see you at home," he added to Frank.  
  
"Don't go," begged Callie. "You won't feel any better by being alone."  
  
"I won't feel any better until Roger is gone," Joe retorted sourly.  
  
"Want to take the van?" Frank asked, looking concerned.  
  
Joe shook his head. "I just need work off some of this ...." he broke off, not wanting to admit how upset he really was. He turned away and left the restaurant. He strode down the street, passing the window in front of his friends as he left.  
  
"Poor Joe," commented Chet Morton, the Hardys' seventeen year old pal. "He just can't cut a break," he added, thinking of his sister who had died in a terrorist bombing. Joe had been deeply in love with her and he had become withdrawn until Vanessa arrived in Bayport.  
  
"He'll be okay," Callie observed. "Joe's been through a lot and he always pulls through."  
  
"You're right," agreed Frank, smiling at her although his eyes remained worried. "If you don't mind, I think I'll pass on the movie this evening," he continued.  
  
"You want to go home and wait for Joe," guessed Callie, smiling in understanding. "That's okay. You can drop me off at home on your way."  
  
"No," Karen denied. "You can still go to the movies with us and Biff and I will drop you off afterwards."  
  
"Go ahead," Frank urged her. "I know you really wanted to see this flick."  
  
"Okay," she agreed. "Call me tomorrow?" she asked Frank, knowing he would be giving Joe all his attention tonight.  
  
Frank nodded as he stood up and left. He paid his, Joe's and Callie's tab on his way out and, climbing into the van, drove home slowly, hoping to spot Joe en route.   
  
"You're home early," commented petite Laura Hardy as Frank entered the living room. She looked at him curiously, her blue eyes worried. "You didn't have trouble with Callie?" she asked. She knew all about Vanessa and couldn't bare it if both her sons had been dealt such crushing blows on the same day.  
  
"No," Frank assured her. "Joe wanted to walk home and I figured he might want to talk when he got here," he explained.  
  
"How's he taking it?" asked Fenton. Fenton Hardy was an older version of Frank, complete with twinkling brown eyes and wavy brown hair although it had begun to thin a bit.  
  
"As well as can be expected, I guess," Frank said, frowning. "How could Vanessa do this to him? I thought she loved him."  
  
"Frank, Joe and Vanessa are only seventeen. They, and you, are going to suffer many heartbreaks before finding the person they are ready to settle down with," Fenton told him.  
  
"Whatever," Frank said. Me? Break up with Callie? Never! His dad really had no clue sometimes. "I'll wait for him in the kitchen," Frank said. "He always comes in that way when he's on his own."  
  
"Want some company?" Laura asked, lifting an eyebrow.  
  
Frank shook his head without even thinking about it. "I think Joe will just want to talk with me," he said, giving her an apologetic smile.  
  
"In that case, your mother and I are going to call it an early night," Fenton said, reaching out and pulling Laura to her feet. "Call us if you need us."  
  
Frank nodded and headed into the kitchen to wait for Joe. Almost three hours later the kitchen door opened and Joe walked inside. "Where have you been?" Frank demanded, his voice coming out in an angry roar although concern was the motivating factor.  
  
"Clearing my head," Joe said, not upset by Frank's outburst.   
  
"Are you okay?" Frank asked, his expression softening as he looked at Joe.  
  
"I would be better if you could get rid of Billings," Joe replied, then sighed. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just tired."  
  
"Let's go to bed," Frank said, locking the door and flipping on the alarm. He put an arm around Joe's shoulders and led him upstairs.  
  
The next morning found the Hardys finishing breakfast when a loud knock came from the front door. Fenton rose from the table and went to answer. "Ezra, Con," Fenton greeted two of Bayport's finest. "Come in," he invited.  
  
Tall and graying Ezra Collig, Chief of Police and young, brown-eyed, brown headed Sergeant Con Riley entered the house, neither of them looking comfortable at the invitation. "What's wrong?" Fenton asked, his expression turning serious as he became aware of the altered attitudes of his friends.  
  
"Hey," Frank said, entering the room followed by Joe. "Is something wrong?" he asked, his expression curious as he took in their awkward stances.  
  
"I'm afraid so," Chief Collig admitted. "I'm so sorry, Fenton," he said, then turned to face Joe. "Joe Hardy. You are under arrest for the attempted murder of Roger Billings." 


	2. Chapter Two

"What?" Joe whispered, shock evident on his face as Con took his shoulder and turned him around.  
  
"You have the right to remain silent..." Con began.  
  
"I know my rights!" Joe shouted, spinning around angrily.  
  
"Joseph!" snapped Fenton. Joe glared at his dad then turned back around and let Con search him down.   
  
Con pulled Joe's wallet out of his pocket and his keys and handed them to Frank. "You might want to keep those here," he said, glancing back at Collig a bit fearfully because he wasn't really allowed to do things like that. But the chief was busy looking at Fenton, either intentionally or not, Con wasn't sure.  
  
"Why do you think I did it?" Joe demanded as Con snapped the metal bracelets onto Joe's wrists.  
  
"Good question," agreed Fenton. "Who is Roger Billings?"  
  
"Vanessa's new boyfriend," Frank answered softly, refusing to look at Joe.  
  
'That doesn't mean I had anything to do with it," Joe insisted. "I've been home since almost eleven last night."  
  
"How did you know it happened after eleven?" Chief Collig asked, turning a gaze on Joe that had gone from contrite to suspicious. He hadn't really believed Joe had tried to kill the boy. Even after the physical evidence had been produced, he had been skeptical, but now he wasn't sure what to believe.  
  
"It had to of," Joe replied. "He and Vanessa were at Mr. Pizza last night and she has an eleven o'clock curfew. You said the attempted murder of him. Not him and Vanessa," he explained.  
  
"Don't." Frank said. "Don't say anything. We'll get Felix," he added, naming their attorney.   
  
Joe turned and looked at Frank in disbelief. Why had he told him not to say anything? He had to clear himself. "Frank's right," Fenton agreed. "Don't answer any questions until you talk to Felix."  
  
Joe started to object, but at the stern look from his father, he closed his mouth. "I'm sorry, Fenton," Ezra said again as Con led Joe outside and to the squad car.   
  
"Why do you think he did it?" Fenton asked.  
  
"Billings' brakes went out near the cliffs. He's been driving race cars for almost a year now and knew how to handle it. Otherwise, he would have gone over. A necklace was found caught beneath the car. It was silver and had an inscription on it," Collig informed him.  
  
"To Joe with all my love, Vanessa," Frank said, remembering the necklace and its inscription.  
  
Chief Collig nodded. "We'll start questioning people today about Joe's relationship with Billings. But it doesn't look good," he added before leaving.  
  
"What's going on?" Laura demanded, coming into the room. "Who was here? Where's Joe?"  
  
Fenton told her about the arrest. "Get him out," she ordered. "That's preposterous." She looked from her husband to Frank. "Tell him!"   
  
"I..." Frank stopped speaking and shook his head.  
  
"Frank," Fenton said, his voice becoming suspicious as he gave his eldest son a hard look. "Is there something we should know?"  
  
Looking miserable, Frank gave a curt nod. He told his parents of Joe's comments about Roger the previous evening at the restaurant and when he arrived home last night. "NO," Laura rasped. "You don't...you can't think he would try to kill him."  
  
"Mom, I...I just don't know," Frank admitted, feeling horrible for the doubts which were currently plaguing him.  
  
"I had better call Felix and have him meet us at the jail," Fenton said, his voice more subdued than earlier. Like Frank, he was no longer sure if Joe was innocent or not but he was sure of one thing: he would do what he could to get Joe out of jail and keep him out of prison.  
  
When Fenton and Frank arrived at the jail almost thirty minutes later, they met up with Felix Andrews, a short rotund man with thinning red hair and freckles. They walked to the steps and waited as the man climbed out of his blue Lexus and hurried up to them. "Do you know what kind of evidence they have against him?" he asked Fenton as they climbed the steps. Fenton had been brief on the phone, saying only Joe had been arrested for attempted murder and he needed to meet the Hardys at the police station as soon as possible.  
  
"Ezra said they had Joe's necklace," Fenton informed him. "It was found caught on something underneath Billings car."  
  
"Anything else?" he demanded.  
  
"Not that we know of," Frank replied.  
  
Felix narrowed his brown eyes on the youth, intuitively knowing something was amiss. "Frank, talk to me. I can't help Joe if I don't know everything."  
  
So Frank repeated his earlier conversation with his parents about Joe. When he had finished, Felix's mouth had drawn into a thin line and his eyes had moved closer together. "There were how many people who heard his comment about Billings last night?" he asked.  
  
"Biff, Chet, Tony, Phil, Callie, Karen and me," Frank said, counting them off. "Six besides me," he said. "Unless someone from another table was listening in."  
  
"And he went for a walk, by himself, after he left the restaurant?" Felix repeated something Frank had told him. Frank nodded. Felix's frown deepened. "This doesn't look good," he said, opening the door for them to enter the building. "This doesn't look good at all." 


	3. Chapter Three

Fenton, Frank and Felix were admitted to the interrogation room where Joe sat, scowling, at a dark-complexioned officer with a mustache. Joe's blue eyes were staring into the man's brown ones as he answered the last question asked. "No comment," Joe growled through gritted teeth. He looked over and saw his family and Felix. "Oh, man, am I glad you are here," he said, relief evident on his features.  
  
"Maybe you can get him to talk," Officer Mason said to the Hardys. "He won't answer any of my questions."  
  
"Because we told him not to until he talked with our lawyer," Fenton explained. The officer frowned. "Give us a few minutes?" he requested. The officer nodded and left the room.  
  
"Joe, where's your necklace?" Frank asked seemingly out of the blue as Joe turned to Felix.  
  
Joe's hand went slowly to his neck. "I threw it away," Joe told him. Frank's eyes sought out his fathers. It had looked to them as if Joe didn't even know it was missing.  
  
Joe closed his eyes as he remembered the previous evening. "After I left you guys at Mr. Pizza, I headed toward the park. I just wanted to get away for a bit. As I walked, I thought about the necklace Vanessa had given me and how it had been a lie, so I pulled it off and tossed it in the bushes."  
  
"Where in the bushes?" Fenton asked. Maybe the necklace found on the car was a fake. If they could find the one Joe threw away, then it would cast some doubt on Joe's involvement with the dire deed.  
  
Joe shrugged. "I don't remember," he said. "I was close to the first bench and just pulled it off and tossed it as hard as I could."  
  
"Which direction?" Frank pushed.  
  
"North, maybe," Joe answered, not sure.   
  
"Frank told me about the comments you made last night in the restaurant," Felix said. He didn't mention the last comment Joe had made since he was sure Frank would not mention it if he were forced to testify. "Why did you want Roger Billings out of the way?"  
  
"Because if he hadn't come to town then Vanessa wouldn't have dumped me," Joe replied honestly.  
  
"So you tried to kill Roger to get Vanessa back?" the lawyer inquired. He still wasn't sure if Joe was innocent or not but the question was used to judge Joe's reaction to the suggestion. A too strong negative reply might indicate he was guilty as would an obvious confession.  
  
"No," Joe said, sinking in his chair and looking at the ceiling.   
  
Was he trying to avoid letting them see his eyes? The thought flashed briefly through Fenton's mind. He had seen this ploy before. He remembered a time when Joe was younger and had been playing ball in the living room. The ball had gone through the window but Joe had tried to make everyone believe someone had tossed the ball inside. He remembered how Joe's eyes kept straying upward when he had talked. When Fenton had told him the majority of the glass was on the outside of the house instead of on the inside, meaning the ball had to of been thrown out, Joe had finally confessed and gotten double the punishment for lying. Fenton felt a grip tighten on his heart as he watched his son. He was hotheaded and temperamental. But to actually try to kill someone? He just couldn't believe it.  
  
"I would never kill anyone," Joe said in the same soft voice. "And I definitely wouldn't kill someone over a girl," he added. "I'm only seventeen. I'm young enough, and smart enough, to know that I will go out with other girls."  
  
"But you didn't think so last night," Felix pushed. "You argued the point with your friends."  
  
"I was depressed," Joe admitted, looking Felix in the eyes. "I didn't know what I was saying."  
  
"So you admit you had a moment that wasn't altogether lucid?" Felix asked. Fenton and Frank knew immediately where this was heading.   
  
Frank bit his bottom lip. Perhaps it was for the best. Maybe Joe did do something to Roger's car but not realize how dangerous that section of road was. Yeah, right. Joe has driven that section of road almost daily for months.  
  
"Yes," Joe said with a long-suffering sigh. "I admit I wasn't thinking straight at the restaurant. That's why I needed to get away for a bit on my own."  
  
"Joe, from what I have heard, I think the easiest way for you to avoid prison would be to claim temporary insanity," Felix told him.  
  
"Forget that!" Joe declared hotly. "I did not fix that guy's car!"  
  
"Joe, it's your best bet," Felix tried to persuade him.  
  
"But it's not a sure thing," Joe told him. "Besides, it would ruin my career. I'd never be anything but a two-bit detective in some rinky-dink town if I even tried. Hell, I wouldn't be a detective at all!"  
  
"It's better than going to prison," Frank told him.  
  
"Then we'll just have to make sure I don't," Joe told him. "We'll find who did try and kill him and I will be out of this mess."  
  
"Joe, you aren't going to be allowed to go," Collig told him, coming into the room as Joe was speaking.   
  
"What do you mean?" Fenton asked.  
  
"He's being denied bail."  
  
"Don't I have to go before the judge before that is decided?" Joe demanded.  
  
"Normally," admitted Collig. "But Judge Aldebridge has been deemed the judge to deal with the matter. Since you are so well known, someone that isn't acquainted with you or your father has been called to oversee the matter. Judge Aldebridge is in Maine at the moment and won't be returning for another week. He was given the details of your case and has decided to deny bail." 


	4. Chapter Four

"Fine," Joe said after taking a deep breath to calm down. Why was this happening to him? "Frank and Dad will get me out of here," he said. He looked into Frank's eyes. "Don't take too long, huh?"  
  
Frank shook his head, unsure of what to say. "You'll keep him away from..." Fenton began.  
  
"He'll be kept in a separate cell," Ezra promised the Hardys. "But..." he began, then broke off.  
  
"But?" Fenton demanded, his voice harsh. What now?   
  
"He's going to be prosecuted as an adult," Ezra informed the group. "Because, more than others his age, he knows how bad a crime of this magnitude can be, it has been decided that he should be tried as an adult and not a minor."  
  
***  
  
"We need to find the necklace," Frank said once Joe had been taken to a cell and they exited the station.   
  
"Call your friends and search the park," Fenton ordered. "I am going to take a look at Billings' car and then go and talk to him."  
  
"Good luck. To both of you," Felix said, leaving the two and going back to his car.  
  
Fenton dropped Frank off at home and left for the police garage. Frank brought his mom up to date on the situation and then went to call his friends, telling them what he needed them to do. Forty minutes later, he, Chet, Tony, Phil, Biff and Callie met at the entrance to the park.  
  
"We need to cover every inch of this place," Frank told them. "Joe said he threw the necklace when he was near the first bench."  
  
The guys spread out and began searching the ground, each holding a flashlight on the ground in case the light caught the silver and caused it to shine. "Frank," Callie said softly before she moved off to start searching. "Karen called me. She said she really wanted to help but one of the force's detectives was at her house. He wanted to talk to her about Joe."  
  
"It's begun then," Frank said, frowning. "They are going to be questioning everyone about what Joe said last night."  
  
"What...what should we say?" she asked a bit fearfully.  
  
"The truth," Frank told her. "Joe didn't do it," he said, although without as much force as he would have if he truly believed it. "Lying won't help Joe but it could put you in trouble for interfering with an investigation or they could even accuse you of being an accessory."  
  
"We'll find that necklace," Callie said, squeezing his arm before moving off and starting her search.  
  
It was almost dinner time when Frank entered the Hardy home. He set his flashlight down on the table in the foyer and rubbed the back of his neck wearily as he went into the living room. He found his dad sitting on the sofa staring at the television screen. Unnerving, because it was off. "Did you find it?" Fenton asked as he heard Frank enter the room.  
  
Frank shook his head and sat down on the coffee table in front of him. "We searched every inch of the park. We started at the first bench then worked our way clear down to the end of the park. Then we went back to the bench and searched in the opposite direction," he said. "We found coins, a ring, a bracelet and three necklaces but not the one we were looking for. What about you?"  
  
"Ezra was right," Fenton told him. "The brakes were tampered with."  
  
"Anyone could have done it," Frank said defensively.   
  
"Not this time," Fenton said. "The brake line wasn't just cut, it was punctured in an area so that it would not begin leaking until the first time the brakes were used."  
  
"At the end of the Bender's long drive where he would have to turn," Frank said, frowning.  
  
"A mile from the cliff," Fenton continued. "And Joe knows exactly how long it would take before hitting the cliffs and he knows the hydraulic system well enough to be able to puncture the line at the right point so that an appropriate amount would drip out by the time it was reached." 


	5. Chapter 5

"What about a polygraph test?" Frank asked his father the next morning over breakfast.   
  
"That wouldn't help Joe at all," Fenton said, shaking his head.  
  
"Why not?" Laura demanded. "All they would have to do is ask him if he did it and when he says no then they would have to believe him."  
  
"It's not that simple," Fenton explained. "To begin with, the results aren't allowed in court so no matter what he says, it wouldn't come up. Second, there are ways to alter the results and we all know Joe knows what they are."  
  
"Yeah, Joe even once teased about sticking some tacks in his shoes and taking a polygraph test to trick Vanessa into believing he believed in Santa Claus," Frank smiled at the memory. "But she already knew the trick and when he mentioned the lie detector test to prove he believed, she offered him two tacks."  
  
"Plus," Fenton started, then stopped.  
  
"Plus what?" Laura demanded.  
  
"Plus if, by some wild chance, Joe did go anywhere near Roger or Vanessa after he left the restaurant, for any reason, then the results could be very harmful," Fenton ended softly.  
  
"I'm going to go see Joe this morning," Laura said. "He must be terrified."  
  
"Tell him we're working on it and will visit him tomorrow," Fenton said. "They have already started interrogating Joe's friends. I talked to Ezra and he has agreed to let me listen in at the station where he decided to continue the questioning although I won't be allowed in the room. Frank, I want you to talk to your friends. Find out what they remember about the night before last. Maybe it won't be bad as we think it is," he said hopefully.  
  
***  
  
Laura sat down in the chair and waited for Joe to come in. A few minutes later, Joe entered the booth on the other side of the glass and sat down. He hunched down so he could speak through the section at the bottom of the glass to allow him to talk. "Hi, mom," Joe said, his voice subdued.  
  
"Baby, are you alright?" Laura asked, her eyes suspiciously bright.  
  
"I'm fine, mom," Joe assured her. "Where are Dad and Frank?" he asked.  
  
"They've been working on getting you out of here," she told him, smiling encouragingly. "They will be here tomorrow. I think Chief Collig is going to let them see you with Felix so you won't be stuck behind this horrid glass," Laura told him.  
  
"That's great," Joe said, smiling. "Don't look so worried," Joe told her. "I'm not. If anyone can get me out of this mess, it's dad and Frank."  
  
They chatted until their allotted time was up and Joe was taken back to his cell. The next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, Joe was led to the interrogation room.   
  
"Hey, Baby Brother," Frank said as Joe entered the room, his wrists in cuffs in front of him. Frank gave him a quick hug before Joe sat down.   
  
"Did you find the necklace?" Joe asked, looking from his father to his brother.  
  
"No," Frank admitted. "We spent hours searching the park. It wasn't there."  
  
"Someone found it and used it to frame me," Joe said, frowning. "What have you come up with?"  
  
Frank looked at his father who looked at Felix. "Joe," Felix said, sitting down beside Joe. "They haven't been able to come up with anything to help you."  
  
"What have you found?" Joe asked, looking up at his father, his blue eyes showing fear for the first time.  
  
Fenton told Joe about the car and how it was timed perfectly. Then he told him about the interrogations. "Joe, everything we have come up with only serves to incriminate you more."  
  
"Damn it, Joe!" Frank erupted. "Plead temporary insanity. Everyone knows how emotional you are. You've been through more than anyone should have to go through. It won't be hard to convince a jury that Vanessa dropping you like that pushed you too far."  
  
"How much?" Joe demanded in a whisper, standing up. His blue eyes stared icily into Frank's sympathetic brown ones. "How much effort have you put into finding who tried to kill Billings?"  
  
"Joseph, we've been trying to clear you. We've done everything we could. But your necklace being found on the underside of Billings car, your disappearing after you left the restaurant and your conversation and mood at Mr. Pizza are all against you."  
  
"You tried to clear me?" Joe asked, his voice hurt. "You didn't try to find someone else who might have done it?"   
  
"Joe, you aren't making any sense," Frank told him. "We just told you, we tried.."  
  
"You told me you tried everything to clear me but," he paused and turned to stare his father in the eyes. "But you always taught us the only way to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that someone was innocent was to find the real guilty party. And since you didn't," his voice lowered to the point that no one could hear him, "you believe I did try and kill him." 


	6. Chapter 6

After Joe was led away, Chief Collig entered the room. "How bad is it?" Frank asked him, hoping some break had come up that they hadn't been informed of.  
  
"Not good," Ezra admitted. "There was motive, opportunity and know-how. Joe hated him because of Vanessa dumping him. He was missing for several hours the night the car was messed with and he is a damn good mechanic."  
  
"Wait a minute," Frank said, an idea coming to him. "Joe was home before eleven. If the car was messed with while Roger was at Vanessa's, he wouldn't have had time to fix the car and get home even if he had hitched a ride or something."  
  
Collig shook his head sadly. "Roger and Vanessa went to her house as soon as they left the pizzeria and according to your friends, they left minutes after Joe did. He had plenty of time to get out there and fix Billings' brakes."  
  
"Then Joe has to use the insanity plea," Frank said.  
  
"He doesn't want to," Felix told him.  
  
"I don't care what he wants," Frank said, scowling. "He's still a minor," he said, turning to his dad. "You can arrange to have him analyzed. Joe would never do something like that if he were in his right mind and if he isn't, then he wouldn't know it anyway, right?" he reasoned.  
  
After giving the matter a little thought, Fenton nodded his head. "You're right," he agreed. "Having Joe in a hospital would be much better than having him in prison."  
  
Three days later, Joe had finished the testing. His family had been forbidden to see him during the testing but now that it was over, they were waiting at the police station, anxious to hear the results. Laura went ahead to start the visit with Joe while Frank and Fenton went to meet with Dr. Albert Neaves, Felix and Chief Collig and find out about the outcome of the tests.  
  
"Well?" Frank demanded, as soon as everyone had been introduced and seated in Chief Collig's office.  
  
Dr. Neaves, a distinguished looking man with thinning black hair and blue eyes, looked at the file he had on his lap. "Joe is a bit disturbed, but I don't think I would label him insane," he began. "Joe does have issues that need to be worked out but those resolve more around guilt than anger."  
  
"Guilt?" Ezra asked in surprise.  
  
"I believe Joe feels responsible for the death of his previous girlfriend, Iola Morton. He feels it his fault the Morton's lost their daughter. Furthermore, he seems to have a self-destructive psychosis. He feels that he doesn't deserve to have good things happen to him," the doctor said.  
  
"Could you explain that in simple English?" Collig asked.  
  
"My conclusions are thus: Joe could not kill anyone for revenge of a wrong because he believes he deserves that wrong."  
  
***  
  
"Your father and brother will be here in a minute," Laura told Joe. "They went to talk to the doctor."  
  
"Those tests were unnecessary," Joe said. "I am not crazy. I was not crazy. I didn't try to kill anyone. And I will not admit to doing so even via an insanity plea."  
  
"But Joe, it's your best chance," she told him. "You have to do it this way."  
  
"Why?" Joe demanded. "Do you believe I did it too?"  
  
Laura looked down at her hands, unable to look at him. Joe saw all he needed to know. "I see," Joe said. "If my own family doesn't believe I'm innocent, what chance do I have with a group of strangers?"  
  
"Joe," Laura looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "I love you. We all do. This is for the best."  
  
"Yeah," Joe whispered, his eyes curiously devoid of emotion. "For the best." He stood up and hit a button on the door. A guard opened the door and escorted Joe out of the visitation room.   
  
"Your dad and brother want to see you too," the guard told him.   
  
"I don't want to see them," he said. "But I would like to see my lawyer."  
  
Fifteen minutes later, after Frank and Fenton had been told of Joe's denial to see them, and had left, Joe was escorted into the interrogation room where his lawyer was waiting for him. "Joe," Felix said, standing as Joe came in and sat down. Chief Collig was also still present.   
  
"I'll leave you two alone," Ezra said, turning to the door.   
  
"No," Joe said before he could turn the knob. "Please stay."  
  
"Joe, the doctor said..." Felix began.  
  
"I don't care what the doctor said," Joe told them, his tone of voice remaining calm. "I want to change the way I plead."  
  
"Wonderful," Felix said in relief. He had been prepared to argue the pros of the insanity plea and tell him why such a plea might work after his evaluation.   
  
"I want to plead guilty," Joe said. 


	7. Chapter 7

"You can't!" Chief Collig cried out. "That would be worse than pleading insanity."  
  
"He's right," Felix concurred, his forehead heavily creased with worry lines. This was not going over well. "Joe, we have Dr. Neaves' evaluation of your mental state. I think you can get off with a few months in a state hospital. There's no need for you to go to prison."  
  
"Joe, do you have any idea what is going to happen to you if you go to prison? You, Frank and your dad have sent a lot of people there. You might not get out alive," Chief Collig told him, his voice laced with concern, the doctor's words about Joe's psychosis weighing heavily on his mind.   
  
"I want to go back to my cell now," Joe said, refusing to acknowledge what was being said. He already knew what a guilty plea would mean, but it didn't matter anymore. His family who had known him all his life believed him guilty. Would proving him crazy help him now? No. It would only make his life worse and he had had enough. Ever since Iola's death only bad things seemed to happen to him. He supposed he deserved it, if he hadn't been flirting with that girl at the mall Iola never would have snatched his keys and gone to the convertible alone. He would have gone to get the papers. He would have been the one to die. And that was what it all boiled down too. He had cheated death by giving it someone else and now it was time to set things right.   
  
"Joe, please," Felix started, but Joe turned away from him and strode to the door, standing there with his cuffs on, waiting to be escorted back to his cell.   
  
Collig threw the lawyer a look of despair and nodded to the officer at the door. After Joe had left, Collig turned to Felix. "You aren't going to enter a guilty plea at the arraignment, are you?" he demanded.  
  
"I have to do as the client wishes," the lawyer said. "But my real client is Fenton Hardy. Joe is a minor. I'm going to go and talk with the Hardys about this. Maybe they can talk some sense into him."  
  
Felix drove straight to the Hardy residence from the police station. "What's wrong?" Fenton demanded when he opened the door and saw the lawyer's distraught face.  
  
"You had better sit down, first," Felix told him.   
  
His face white and drawn, Fenton led the way into the living room where Laura was sitting, staring absently at the television. "Frank!" Fenton shouted up the stairs as he passed by. "Get down here."  
  
Frank came crashing down the steps, stopping when he saw his father and Felix standing by the sofa in the living room. "What is it? Has something happened to Joe?"  
  
"Joe has asked me to change his plea," Felix began.  
  
"That's wonderful!" Laura said, springing to her feet. Fenton and Frank held back, realizing something was terribly wrong.   
  
"He wants to change his plea to guilty," Felix informed them.  
  
Laura's mouth fell open and her eyes closed as she sank back onto the sofa. "Wh...why?" she asked, tears falling down her cheeks. "Doesn't he know what will happen to him if he goes to prison?"  
  
"He knows," Felix told her. "Chief Collig made sure he knew, but Joe refused to listen."  
  
"We have to make him listen to us," Frank said.  
  
"He won't listen to you today," Felix cautioned them. "He ignored Chief Collig and me after he told us."   
  
"Dr. Neaves," Frank said. "Doesn't he know what Dr. Neaves said? If Joe pleads guilty, his opinion won't matter."  
  
"He wouldn't listen," Felix told them. "Maybe he will be more ready to listen to you tomorrow but..."  
  
"But?" Frank pushed.  
  
"But I think there is more to Joe's change of mind than this so called self-destructive psychosis that Dr. Neaves mentioned."  
  
***  
  
The next day Joe was taken once again to the interrogation room. Chief Collig had forgone routine and allowed this special meeting. He wasn't sure if Joe was guilty or not but he was convinced that Joe had not decided to change his plea because of any guilt he felt. The opposite was more apt, as a matter of fact. Joe seemed to have shut himself off. He no longer talked to anyone, even Con had not been able to get Joe to talk to him yesterday afternoon.   
  
Joe entered the interrogation room, the cuffs chaffing his wrists, and stopped when he saw his family there. They looked angry. He did an about face. "Take me back to my cell," Joe ordered the officer who had accompanied him.  
  
"Joe, they're your family," Officer Richmond said softly.   
  
"Now," Joe said.  
  
"You're the prisoner here," the cop reminded him.  
  
"Shall I act like a prisoner then?" Joe inquired in a calm tone, quirking an eyebrow at him.  
  
The guard looked Joe in the eyes then leaned around him to look at the Hardys. "I'm sorry," he apologized, taking Joe's arm and escorting him back to his cell.  
  
"Dad, what are we going to do?" Frank asked in a hoarse voice.  
  
"What we planned," Fenton told him. "I told Felix to go ahead and enter the insanity plea."  
  
"Fenton, do you think maybe that doctor was right? Maybe Joe decided to plead guilty because he thinks he deserves to be punished?" Laura asked in a soft voice.  
  
Fenton shook his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I do know Joe would never plead guilty to a crime he hadn't committed unless there was something seriously wrong."  
  
  
  
Two days later, Fenton, Laura, and Frank were waiting in the courtroom for Joe's arraignment to come up. The had tried to see Joe twice more but with the same results. They hated forcing Joe to take the insanity plea but he seemed to not know what was best for himself.  
  
Soon, Joe was in the courtroom with Felix by his side. He kept his eyes straight ahead, ignoring the whispered, "It's going to be okay, Baby Brother," that came his way. How could it be okay when his own family thought he could try to kill someone?  
  
The words came a few minutes later. "And how does your client plea?" the judge inquired.  
  
"Innocent by reason of temporary insanity," Felix said.  
  
"I object!" Joe shouted, standing up.  
  
"Mr. Hardy, you cannot object. Only your lawyer can do that," the judge told him sternly.  
  
"I'm sorry, Your Honor," Joe apologized. "But I am to be tried as an adult. I believe I should be allowed to enter the plea I choose."  
  
"Agreed," the judge stated. "And what is your plea?"  
  
"Don't do it. Don't do it," Frank whispered harshly, his brown eyes wide with fright.  
  
"Guilty," Joe replied.   
  
"You do understand that by entering a guilty plea you are giving up your right to a trial by your peers?" Joe was reminded.  
  
"Yes, Sir," Joe replied, his eyes never faltering from the judge's face.  
  
"In that case, you are hereby sentenced to twenty-five years at the state penitentiary; your sentence to begin immediately." The gavel dropped and Joe was led from the courtroom. 


	8. Chapter 8

Joe climbed out of the car which had transported him to the state pen sixty miles away from Bayport. He stood still for a few seconds and took a deep breath, the last free breath he would ever take for he had no doubts he would be dead once his mandatory twenty-four hour stay in solitary confinement was over.   
  
The officer took him by the arm and led him inside. There he was escorted to the warden's office and told what was expected of him and the punishment should he disobey any rules. From there he was taken to the showers where he was made to strip. He was searched, forced to shower and then had an insecticide sprayed on him to ensure he had no lice. Then he was given two uniforms, one to wear and one to change into, then led down a corridor to a cell where he would spend the next twenty-four hours alone.  
  
Joe sat down on the cot and pulled his knees up to his chin. Wrapping his knees with his arms, he laid his head down on his arms and cried.  
  
***  
  
The Hardys drove home in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. At home, Frank went to Joe's room and sat down on his bed. Looking around, he felt tears well in his eyes and he hastily wiped at them. This was pointless, he knew. He sniffed and stood up. He could not mourn his brother for twenty-five years. Not even for the year he had to serve before coming up for a parole. He left the room, closing the door.  
  
He started down the hall to his dad's office but stopped when he heard his mother crying and his father trying to comfort her in their room. Instead, he went downstairs to the living room and sat down in the chair by the table which held the phone. He took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. He punched in Callie's phone number.  
  
"Hello?" he heard her answer on the second ring.   
  
"Hi, Callie," Frank said, his voice heavy with the emotion he was trying to contain.   
  
"Frank? How did it go?" she asked him. "Did the judge order more tests? When will his trial begin?"  
  
"He's... he's not going to have a trial," Frank said, his voice breaking. "He pleaded guilty. He's...he's been taken to the state penitentiary," he ended, giving up and letting the tears slide unchecked down his cheeks.  
  
"Oh, baby," Callie whispered, her own sorrow evident in her voice. "I'll be right over," she promised, hanging up.  
  
She arrived in less than thirty minutes, her brown eyes bloodshot from the tears she had shed on the way over. She, too, knew that if by some miracle Joe wasn't killed in prison, then he would most likely be raped. Joe had always been a good person. He wasn't capable of hurting anyone. At least, not intentionally. He had to of been insane at the time. There was no other explanation.  
  
Frank was waiting outside on the front porch when she arrived. She parked her car and got out. Frank ran down the steps to meet her. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, letting him find what comfort he could in her. She could only imagine how hard this was on him. He and Joe were so close. To have him taken away must be devastating.  
  
A little later, the two went for a walk. They stopped at the park, sitting down on the swings. Callie waited for Frank to say something. She was really starting to worry about him because he hadn't said one word to her since she had hung up the phone.  
  
"I just can't believe it," Frank said, finally breaking the silence. "I can't believe he's gone," he added, his haunted eyes looking at her. "They're going to kill him in there."  
  
"Maybe not," Callie said, trying to comfort him. "I mean, they think he's gone bad since he tried to kill someone and they might accept him."  
  
"Joe didn't try to kill anyone," Frank denied, more from loyalty than any belief he felt. He had seen the evidence. Had heard Joe talk about Billings. And worse, had heard Joe admit to being guilty.  
  
"You don't believe that," Callie told him. "If you did, then you would have tried to find who framed him."  
  
Frank looked at her, his vision blurring. Joe had said basically the same thing. Had he and his dad tried hard enough to clear Joe? By believing him guilty, had they done everything possible to get him cleared. The answer was an overwhelming NO.   
  
"Oh, my God," Frank cried out in anguish, dropping his head into his hands and crying. It was his fault. Joe was innocent and in prison because his own brother and father hadn't done what they would have for any client they had ever had. Was that why Joe had pled guilty? Because they hadn't believed him, he thought no one else would? He stood up, grabbed Callie's arm, and set off at a brisk pace back home.   
  
"I've got to talk to Dad," Frank said when they reached her car. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for coming over," he said.  
  
"Sure," she said, looking at him curiously. "If you need me, just call."  
  
"I'll call you later anyway," he promised, giving her the best smile he could muster.  
  
As Callie climbed in her car and drove away, Frank went back inside and hurried up the stairs to his parents bedroom. "Dad, I need to talk to you," Frank said, feeling a bit guilty for dragging him away from his mother at this time but they had to get Joe out before his solitary confinement period was up or it might be too late.  
  
Fenton left Laura and the two went down the hall to his office. "Dad, we have to get Joe out of there," Frank said sitting down in front of his father's desk.  
  
"Son, there isn't anything we can do now," Fenton began softly. "Felix suggested Joe be tested again but the truth of the matter is, what Joe did was wrong and he knew it. That's why he..."  
  
"He didn't do it," Frank said. "Joe was right. We thought he was guilty so we didn't do everything we could to help him."  
  
"What?" Fenton demanded in disbelief. "Frank we did everything possible."  
  
"We didn't find who would want to frame Joe," Frank said. "We looked at the evidence. We talked to people. We tried to find someone who had something against Billings but we never looked for someone who would kill Billings just to frame Joe."  
  
"Oh, my God," Fenton gasped, realizing Frank was right. No wonder Joe hadn't wanted to see them again.   
  
"We have to start looking now," Frank said.   
  
Before Fenton could agree, the doorbell rang. They left the office and went to see who it was, prepared to get rid of them as soon as possible so they could get busy on finding who framed Joe.   
  
"Fenton, we have a major problem," said the man who stood on the other side of the door.  
  
"Major Donalds," Fenton acknowledged the man, stepping aside and letting him enter.   
  
"We have a terrorist threat in LA and we have had no luck in pinpointing the location of their headquarters," the major began.  
  
"I'm sorry," Fenton said, interrupting. "I can't take on anything now. My son needs me."  
  
"I appreciate that," the major said. "But, Fenton, if this isn't stopped by the day after tomorrow, hundreds of thousands of people could die."  
  
"You go," Frank told his father. He really wanted his dad's help, but they couldn't let so many people be killed. "I'll work on this."  
  
"He's going to need you," Major Donalds told him. "I'm sorry. I know this is the worst time imaginable for you but as I said, if you don't help, lots of people will die."  
  
Frank closed his eyes. Forgive me Baby Brother. He nodded his acquiescence. 


	9. Chapter 9

Joe was taken down the stretch of hall passing cell after cell until they came to the next to the last one. The door was open since prisoners were not allowed in their cell during the day except during lockdown, an event that happened an average of once a week. Joe looked at the small room. He had seen the prison cells on television but those had bunk beds attached to the wall with a toilet and a sink in them. This cell was nothing like that. There were two cots and at the foot of each was a small metal locker which, of course, had no lock.  
  
The cots were made with gray blankets on top and pillows in gray pillowcases. The wall was a ghastly dull green and looked incredibly dingy in the dim light. The only sign that Joe would be sharing this cell with anyone was the spare set of clothing lying on top of the metal locker at the foot of one of the cots.  
  
"Put your things in your locker," Joe was ordered. He hurriedly did as told and was then escorted down the hall into the prisoner's recreation room.  
  
Joe saw roughly twenty cons gathered around a television set that was chained to the wall. It was one of the old fashioned kind with a knob to turn the channel. The guard who brought him in left, leaving only one guard on duty in the room.   
  
Joe swallowed a bit nervously. If the guard weren't here, he knew he would be killed immediately. He recognized four of the men in the room as being men he and Frank had sent here. Two others he recognized by sight as men his father had sent here recently.  
  
He closed his eyes for a brief second and swallowed again. This was what he wanted. To get in here were he knew it would all end. No more guilt; no more pain. He supposed it was a form of suicide but since he wasn't actually killing himself and he hadn't really done anything deserving of being arrested in the first place, it shouldn't count.  
  
He opened his eyes in time to see one of the prisoners sidle up to the guard and say something. Joe watched as the guard left the room at once. Almost immediately, he was surrounded. His arms were pulled behind him and Joe groaned as he felt them coming close to being yanked from their sockets, but the men's movements came to a stop although the pain remained.  
  
One of the men, a man of the same height as Joe with thick black hair and dark brown eyes, came to stand in front of Joe. His nose was too big for his face and his lips were curled back to form the most vile smirk Joe had ever witnessed. Joe's nose twitched as the smell form the man's underarms accosted him as he lifted his arms and put one hand on each of Joe's shoulders.  
  
"You know," he said, his voice gruff and his eyes shining with malicious delight, "when we heard you had been arrested for attempted murder, we figured someone was just trying to frame you."  
  
Joe gave an almost imperceptible snort. Here his own family thought he was guilty right off the bat and these criminals had believed him innocent.  
  
"But when you admitted to doing it, well, we couldn't contain our excitement. I mean, you, Fenton Hardy's little boy, going to prison for attempted murder. We laughed our asses off. How the mighty had fallen and all that, you know," he said, laughing at the memory as the others in the room snickered. "At first, I wanted nothing more than to kill you. Pull you limb from limb. I mean, it's obvious I would have help with the deed," he added, looking at the men gathered around them. "But then, we saw you on television while you were being led out of the courthouse and we talked it over. We decided to have a little fun before we offed you."  
  
Joe turned a pale green. This idea hadn't occurred to him. He thought they would just hate him and his family so much they would want him dead, but now, it looked like he would have to suffer first.   
  
Joe swallowed again. He wouldn't scream. He wouldn't shout or beg. Whatever they were going to do to him couldn't be avoided so he might as well give in and let them get it over with. His life wasn't worth living anymore anyway. Any hope he had fled when his own mother, the last person who he thought he knew believed in him, the same as admitted she didn't.  
  
Some kind of response had been expected since it was almost a full minute later before Joe's hair was grabbed and his head forced forward. His lips were pushed open as the man plunged his tongue into Joe's mouth. Joe felt his clothes being removed by the multitude of hands. Tears of humiliation seeped from his eyes as he felt hands touching him where no one had.  
  
"Stop!" ordered a deep voice. The voice had no effect on Joe but the movement of hands ceased immediately as the pressure on his mouth vanished.  
  
"Let him go," the voice continued. "He's mine." Joe was released at once. His knees crashed to the floor and he caught himself with his hands.  
  
He looked up, his breathing ragged, his vision a little blurred, and saw a large man with mocha skin and bulging muscles standing before him. "Get up and put on your clothes," the man ordered Joe.  
  
Trembling, Joe scampered to his feet and snatched his clothes from where they had been thrown. Huddling in a corner, he put them back on, his skin on fire as he felt everyone watching him dress.  
  
"Here," he was ordered by his rescuer. Joe moved to his side and sat down in the chair pointed to. Everyone sat back down and resumed watching the telly. Two hours later, the guard returned. He looked at Joe with a worried frown on his face but said nothing. Minutes later, the television was shut off to the grumblings of the inmates and they were ordered back to their cells.  
  
After their cell had been shut and locked, Joe turned to his roommate, the man who had saved him from being gang raped hours before. "Thank you," he said, his voice raw for some unknown reason.  
  
"Don't thank me kid," he was told. "You obviously don't know me, but I know you. My name is Dan Pearson. Pierce to everyone who has ever crossed my path. Your old man sent me here for life sixteen years ago." He watched Joe's eyes darken as he thought about that statement. "That's right pretty boy. I'm the first bust your old man made after he went private."  
  
"Then why...why did you save me?" Joe asked in confusion.  
  
"Save you? Yeah, right," Pierce guffawed. "I didn't save you. I just changed the rules a little. I know a good thing when I see one and you, Kid, are a good thing. Besides, I don't go in for the gang bang funk," he continued. "One on one is much more to my style," he added, grabbing Joe by his neck and pulling him close.  
  
"Let me make it simple for you to understand," Pierce told him. "You belong to me. You're my property. No one touches you unless I give my permission, and don't worry, Blondie. I will give my permission if the price is right. At night, when we are locked up, you will immediately take off your clothes. You will do everything I tell you the first time I tell you. You will do everything in your power to please me because if you make me angry, I will give you back to them on the condition they don't hurt you but so much at a time. After all, what fun would any of us have if you died?"  
  
He shoved Joe back into the wall and sat down on one of the cots. "Now," he said, leaning back on two hands and smiling at Joe's discomfort. "Strip." 


	10. Chapter 10

Joe hadn't thought it could get any worse than earlier, but having to undress himself and physically participate made him realize, he was truly in hell. Was this real justice? Was this God's way of punishing him for being the cause of Iola's death? He didn't know. He didn't know what to believe anymore. As he removed his clothes, Joe thought back to all the times Frank had been there for him. Rescuing him in the nick of time. Joe's eyes involuntarily looked away from his task to the cell door. No one there. No sound of anyone coming.   
  
Joe finished his task and dropped his clothing on top of his locker. As Pierce grabbed him and pushed him to the bed on his stomach, Joe gave up any lingering hope he had of being rescued. It was over. There was no one who cared about him. No one to save him. No.... Joe grunted and squinched his eyes as a burst of pain assaulted him.  
  
Joe opened his eyes. He made no sound. Shed no tears. When Pierce finished, he shoved Joe to the floor and there he lay; unmoving; unseeing.  
  
Joe opened his eyes. He still lay on the floor but the noise he heard was telling him it was time to arise and head to the showers. He got to his feet, his blue eyes now a dull gray, and put on his clothes. The cell door opened and he followed Pierce out of the cell and down to the showers. There Joe removed his clothes and stepped under the spray. He had no time to wash though. Someone else stepped up behind him.   
  
"You just cost me a whole pack of smokes," growled the thick set man with flabby arms. "You sure as hell better be worth it."  
  
Later, Joe took his seat at the table, his breakfast of watery eggs and greasy bacon in front of him. He didn't try to eat. He wasn't hungry and it wasn't the food that turned his stomach.   
  
"Eat up," ordered Pierce. "You will not starve yourself to death while you're my bitch. Now eat, or I will force feed it to you."  
  
Joe picked up the bacon and began munching it. The threat didn't mean anything to him. He merely did as he was told, his eyes still maintaining their new lackluster gray appearance.  
  
One day faded into another and then another. His routine became set. At night, Pierce would prove Joe belonged to him and at least twice a day, Joe would be sold to anyone who offered Pierce a full pack of cigarettes. Some evenings, the guard would leave the rec room and Joe would be made to do a strip tease to a video on MTV. Sunday came and Joe was informed he had one visitor, a female. His mother, most likely. He refused to see her and spent the time in the rec room, sitting in a corner and staring at the wall.   
  
"I'm so glad you are back," Laura said, smiling at Frank and Fenton when they entered the house on Wednesday night. She gave Frank a peck on the cheek as he hugged her tight and then she let Fenton envelope her in his arms. She clung to him tightly.   
  
"What is it, honey?" Fenton asked softly.  
  
"I...I went to see Joe on Sunday," she started.  
  
"How is he?" Frank demanded, his brown eyes searching her face.   
  
Laura shook her head. "He refused to see me," she said.   
  
Frank's eyes fell and he picked up his duffel bag. "I'm going to go and shower," he said.  
  
"I'll fix some dinner," Laura said, plastering a small smile on her face.  
  
Frank shook his head. "I'm kind of tired," he said. "I think I will just go on to bed."  
  
Fenton and Laura watched Frank head upstairs. Fenton squeezed Laura. "We're going to work on getting Joe out of there," he promised.  
  
Upstairs, Frank took his shower then headed to bed where he lay staring at the ceiling until the first rays of morning began to seep through the window. Closing his eyes, the tears began to fall once again and soon he fell asleep.  
  
Saturday night was wrestling night and all the prisoners in Joe's cell block were gathered around the tube. But a storm was raging outside and the picture went out. Everyone was grumbling except for Joe and Pierce. Pierce had been watching Joe since his arrival and he had come to the conclusion that things were too normal. It was time to shake him up.   
  
Pierce went over to the guard, one Joe had discovered was more of a prisoner here than some of the inmates. He exited the room and Pierce stood up in front of the other inmates. "Get up here Hardy," he ordered.  
  
Joe stood up and made his way slowly to the front of the room. He walked with no trepidation. Whatever Pierce had planned was having no effect on him whatsoever.   
  
When Joe reached the front, Pierce ordered Joe to pull his shirt off. Joe did as told. Turning to the room, Pierce smiled and rubbed Joe's half naked body. "A different kind of entertainment tonight," he said. "Up for bid, we have one blond headed., blue- eyed son of the bastard who is responsible for so much of our present discomfort." He paused to let his words sink in. "The only stipulation is that whoever wins the bid, has to offer up something for our viewing pleasure. Any voyeurs in the room?"  
  
There was an outbreak of laughter and the first bid went up. "Two."  
  
"Ah, I have two cigarettes," Pierce said. "Do I hear three? And remember boys, payment on delivery."  
  
"Three!" came a shout.  
  
"Four!"  
  
"Five!"  
  
"Six!"  
  
"I hear six. Do I hear seven?" Pierce asked, looking around the room questioningly. No takers. "Ah come on, boys. That's not even half a pack."  
  
"I'll give you five if he has a talented mouth," offered another voice.  
  
"Me too," came a second voice.  
  
"Sold!" Pierce said. "But one at a time, boys. One at a time. Johnny, you were the winning bidder. Have at him."  
  
Johnny stood up and handed Pierce the required amount of cigarettes. "Strip," Pierce ordered Joe. Joe removed the rest of his clothing and stood waiting, his eyes staring straight ahead. And when the time came to return to his cell, he had a few new bruises.  
  
"Have fun tonight?" Pierce demanded as the cell locked shut behind him. Not answering, Joe began taking his clothing off as instructed his first night there. 


	11. Chapter 11

Sunday morning, Joe lay still waiting for the bell to ring announcing breakfast. Since it was Sunday, there was no need to hurry out of the cell. He had learned last Sunday night that prisoners could remain in their cells if they chose on visitation day.   
  
When the bell finally rang, Joe started to move but was halted by strong hands gripping him and forcing him onto his stomach. It was several minutes later before Pierce had finished. Joe arose without a sound and dressed. "What is it with you, kid?" Pierce demanded, his voice gruff but his expression curious. "No matter what I do to you or what I let get done to you, you just take it."  
  
Joe's silence turned Pierce's curiosity into full-blown anger. "I asked you a question," he snarled, jumping out of bed and raising his fist to knock Joe down.  
  
When Joe never flinched, Pierce lowered his arm. "You're one messed up kid," he muttered, then ignored Joe as he grabbed his own clothes and dressed.  
  
No one bothered Joe in the shower that morning. Since Sundays were visiting days, all the prisoners were too excited over seeing their families and friends to bother with torturing Joe. Besides, he would be around for awhile.   
  
Breakfast was a quick affair. Joe ate everything on his tray then waited for Pierce to order him to get up. They carried their trays to the window and set them down. As Joe turned around to make his way to the door, he bumped a guard who was holding a fresh cup of coffee. The liquid sloshed out of the cup and onto Joe's left arm.   
  
Pierce watched it start to blister then looked up to Joe's face to see how this type of pain was affecting him. Pierce's eyes narrowed on Joe as he showed no sign the incident had even happened. "Ah, hell!" the guard growled. "Watch where you're going or next time I'll toss you into the hole," he snapped.  
  
"He needs to see the nurse," Pierce said, ignoring the guard's rants.   
  
"Take him on then," Pierce was instructed.  
  
Pierce took hold of Joe's right arm and steered him out of the dining hall and along the corridor to the nurse's office. Joe was admitted immediately and Pierce ordered to wait. The nurse, a tall woman with features similar to those of his Aunt Gertrude, told Joe to sit down on the examining table. The guard stood silently in the corner observing.  
  
Curious, Pierce cracked open the door just a fraction of an inch so he could hear what was being said. After all, Joe was his now and he had every right to know what was going on. Besides, how could he hear Joe scream through the heavy closed door?  
  
"This is going to hurt," the nurse told Joe. She glanced at his eyes and was a bit unnerved by the lack of emotion she saw in them. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you anything for pain," she continued. "We aren't allowed to keep that kind of medication here."  
  
She began cleansing the area, her gaze wandering from her task to Joe's face occasionally. His detached look never wavered and she finished cleaning the burned area and then put on a gel antibiotic before bandaging it. She looked over to the guard and frowned. "He'll need to be checked every day for an infection," she told the guard.  
  
"Why?" he demanded. "He'll let you know if it gets infected," he assured her.  
  
"No, he won't," she argued. "Look at him. He's shut down. He didn't even feel the burn or what I did to him."  
  
"Of course he did," the guard disagreed, not seeing how she could believe that. "That was a wicked burn. He felt it. He's just....stoic," he ended, with a shrug as he came up with the word he was looking for.  
  
"No," she denied. "His nerves are still sending the sensations to his brain, but his brain isn't processing them. Look into his eyes," she ordered. "He's existing. No more, no less." 


	12. Chapter 12

"You look excited," Callie said Sunday morning when she opened her front door to find Frank standing there, a silly grin on his face as he practically hopped from one foot to the other.  
  
Frank's grin deepened. "We're going to see Joe this afternoon," he admitted.  
  
"Do you think he'll want to see you?" she asked a bit hesitantly. She didn't want to put a damper on Frank's rapture but neither did she want to see him in the same state as she had found Laura when she stopped by last Sunday evening. Laura had been almost hysterical because Joe had refused to see her.  
  
"I hope so," Frank said, his grin fading as worry lines began to form on his forehead. "He may have been beat up too bad and not wanted mom to see him."  
  
"You really think that was the reason?" Callie asked, hoping he was right.   
  
"I hope so," Frank repeated, his good mood vanishing with the growing fear that like before Joe had been sentenced, he wanted nothing to do with them.  
  
"Have you found any leads as to who might have framed Joe?" Callie asked, feeling it prudent to change the subject.  
  
"Who DID frame Joe," Frank corrected, scowling now. "No. If only we hadn't had to go to California we could have got right on it and found someone by now," he said. "Who am I kidding?" he continued, his voice filling with self-loathing. "If we had believed Joe in the first place he would be home and safe now and not rotting in prison for something he didn't do."  
  
"What about your Dad?" she asked. "Is this affecting his job?"  
  
"Yeah, but not in the way you mean," he answered. "He's turned down four cases since we got back. He's been putting every waking hour into trying to clear Joe. We're only taking a few hours off today to visit Joe."  
  
"When are you leaving for the prison?" she asked him.  
  
Frank glanced at his watch. "About twenty more minutes," he said, then looked into her eyes. "I just missed you so much I had to drop by for a bit."  
  
Frank stayed for five more minutes then returned home where he parked the van and climbed into the back seat of his father's car. They arrived at the prison in a little over an hour.  
  
"Visitation starts in an hour," Laura informed them, having been there once before already. "But we need to get in line. The sooner we get in the more time we'll have with him."  
  
An hour and ten minutes later they were sitting in a large room filled with tables, each with four accompanying chairs. Frank had picked up a flyer at the front gate where he, like everyone else, had surrendered his license and undergone a search. It listed the rules of visitation. Only three adult visitors were allowed. Children must be kept quiet and if they were old enough to require a chair, they were considered as one adult visitor. 'If any of the guys want to see Joe, mom or dad will have to go a week without seeing him,' thought Frank. 'Because I am going to be here every week.'  
  
Frank continued to peruse the rules. Hands must be kept on the table at all times and only a brief hug hello and another brief hug goodbye was the limit of body contact. Frank only hoped he didn't break any of Joe's ribs when he got to hug him. He missed him so much.  
  
They waited as the room filled up with visitors and the prisoners began making their appearances one at a time. Fenton recognized the fourth man to enter the room. He watched the man move toward them, his eyes shining like he had a secret he was dying to tell, then veer away at the last second and sit down at the table next to the Hardys.   
  
"Pierce, buddy," said the man who had come to see him. "You're looking happier than I've seen you in a long time."  
  
"That's 'cause I got me a new playmate, " Pierce told him. "Best little piece of artwork on the block. I don't even need any smokes for awhile," he continued, loud enough for all the Hardys to hear. "Anyone who wants to do him pays me a pack of cigarettes." He broke off and gave a loud guffaw. "I'm telling you Mac, I've been doing so well whoring him out, I even put him up for auction last night. Everyone on the block watched him take it and fall to his knees and give it."  
  
"Sounds like you lucked out," Pierce's friend said. "Anyone I know?"  
  
"By name, maybe," Pierce admitted, raising his voice a hair. "His name is Hardy. Joe Hardy."  
  
Frank flew out of his chair, paying no attention as it crashed to the ground behind him and landed on Pierce, his hands at the man's neck. 


	13. Chapter 13

Two guards hurried over and pulled Frank off of Pierce. "Visitation is over for you," one of the guards told Pierce. "Go back to your block now."  
  
Pierce smirked at Frank who was still struggling to break free of the guards and turned to Fenton. "Looks like you sent the wrong kid to prison," he said. "But thanks," he added with a wink as he walked away.  
  
Fenton closed his eyes, a wave of self-loathing washing over himself. It was his fault this had happened to his little boy. He hadn't done all he could for his son when he had the chance and now it was too late.   
  
Frank was released after Pierce left the room and although his face remained a fiery red, he stood still and said nothing. The guard who had ordered Pierce to leave looked at Mr. and Mrs. Hardy. "Will she be alright?" he asked, looking at Mrs. Hardy who looked like she was about to faint.  
  
She nodded, trying hard to be strong. She wasn't going to faint and miss seeing her baby.   
  
"You can leave now, too," the guard said, looking relieved.   
  
"That's not fair!" objected Frank. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did and I'll wait outside but they should be allowed to see Joe."  
  
"You're right," agreed the guard. "But if it had been my brother, I would have tore into him too."  
  
"You know what he has done to my brother?" Frank demanded, his brown eyes turning almost black. The guilty look on the guard's face was a dead giveaway. "Why didn't you stop him?"  
  
"What are we supposed to do?" the guard demanded in his own defense. "Sure, we could toss Joe in the hole but he would have to come out sometime and then it would only be that much worse for him."  
  
Frank opened his mouth to argue but Fenton placed a hand on his arm and began speaking to the guard. "Why can't we see Joe?" he asked.  
  
"Joe has refused to come," the guard replied.  
  
"Can't you make him come?" begged Laura, desperate for a glimpse of her baby. She needed to see him if only to reassure herself that he was still alive.   
  
"I'm sorry," the guard replied with a small shake of his head.  
  
The Hardys left and got back into their car. "You don't...you don't think he was telling the truth, do you?" Laura whispered, her blue eyes too big for her face.  
  
Fenton never answered, afraid to tell her it was possibly even worse. Frank sat quietly in the back seat, looking down at his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks for his brother's lost innocence.  
  
Pierce entered his cell whistling and saw Joe lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling. Joe had learned last Sunday night that the cells remained open on Sundays and prisoners were allowed to remain in them as long as they chose. But, unlike most of the prisoners, Joe was one of the few who actually chose to remain there.  
  
"I just went to the Shadowbox," Pierce told him, using the inmates term for the visitation room. "Guess who I saw?"  
  
Joe remained silent, not caring. After a moment's silence, Pierce tried once again to get a rise out of Joe. "Your brother wasn't too happy with me." Again, Joe did not speak.  
  
"Sit up!" snapped Pierce, his voice rough as he scowled at the youth. "Now, tell me why you're here instead of on your way to see your family?" he demanded. Joe did not answer. He just sat quietly, looking at Pierce who blocked his field of vision.  
  
"Answer me, damn it!" Pierce ordered, grabbing Joe by the scruff of the neck and touching his nose with his own.  
  
"I don't want to," Joe replied, his eyes looking into Pierce's.  
  
"Why?" Pierce demanded. "Why wouldn't you want to see your family?"  
  
"They aren't my family," replied Joe, his tone not revealing any emotion.  
  
"Because they couldn't get you off after you nearly killed somebody?" Pierce asked, his nose twitching in disgust. He had thought the kid had some ethics.  
  
"Because they didn't try," Joe replied, his voice so soft Pierce had to strain to hear it even though he was as close as he could get.  
  
Pierce released Joe and he fell back on the bed. "You didn't do it, did you?" he asked, looking at Joe quizzically. Joe remained silent. He saw no reason in arguing the point now. "Why did you plead guilty?"  
  
Joe shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't matter," he said.  
  
"That's not an answer," Pierce said, scowling. "Didn't you know what would happen to you in here?"  
  
"I thought..." Joe began but stopped abruptly.  
  
"You thought what?" pushed Pierce, his eyes narrow as he watched Joe's face.  
  
"I thought someone would kill me once I hit population," Joe whispered, obviously wishing that had been what had happened.  
  
Pierce sat down on his cot and watched Joe who remained sitting but not saying or even really looking at anything. Pierce had thought Fenton Hardy had screwed him over but it was nothing to what he had obviously done to his own son.   
  
"Take a nap," Pierce ordered Joe, getting up and leaving the cell. He had to think. 


	14. Chapter 14

When Joe awoke he felt Pierce's presence next to him. He remained unmoving but Pierce, who hadn't been asleep, took Joe's head and forced him to look at him.  
  
"'Bout time you woke up," Pierce told him. "It's time for supper." Pierce released Joe and got to his feet. "Come on," he told Joe. "Let's go."  
  
The two headed down the corridor, taking a left at the first turn off and down another corridor until they reached a door leading into the dining hall. The two got their trays and took their seats.  
  
"Hey," said the fat and flabby guy who had first had Joe in the showers. He held out a pack of smokes to Pierce. Joe, knowing what was coming, laid down his spoon and started to rise but was halted by Pierce's hand on his arm.  
  
"Forget it," Pierce said, ignoring the cigarettes.  
  
"You're raising the price?" the man demanded. "Fine. How much? I'm really itching to have a go at a Hardy." Seeing his family had reminded him how much he hated Fenton Hardy and since he wasn't here, his son would have to do.  
  
"I'm taking him off the market," Pierce corrected him.  
  
"Taking him..." the man sputtered, his beady eyes widening. "Why?" he thundered.  
  
"Let's just say, I've become health conscious," Pierce replied. "The more guys who mess with him, the more my chances are of getting something."  
  
"But I've already played him," Flabby responded, smirking. "No reason I can't have a little more."  
  
"You may have had him before," Pierce said, "but there's no telling what you've played with since."  
  
"Ah, come on," Flabby begged. "I'll give you a carton," he enticed.  
  
"Back off," Pierce hissed, his eyes narrowing in anger.  
  
"Sure, sure," Flabby agreed, holding up his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say," he added, walking away. He had only been in prison for a year, but that was enough time to know that if Pierce lost his temper he was extremely dangerous. In the sixteen years he had been in prison, he had killed six inmates without getting caught. Everyone knew better than to mess with him.  
  
After dinner, Pierce took Joe back to the nurse. He had noticed the bandage had become discolored and didn't know if it was becoming infected or if it was the gel used on it. The guard seemed surprised to see them. "What are you two doing here?" he demanded.  
  
"He needs his arm checked," Pierce said.  
  
The guard looked at Joe and sneered. "Can't feel anything? Just existing, huh? I knew that was a load of bull," he said. Joe remained quiet. He hadn't told Pierce anything and he didn't know why he had brought him there, but, as with everything else, it didn't matter.  
  
After Joe's arm had been cleaned and re-bandaged, it was time for lockdown. They returned to their cell where Joe waited until the door locked shut before undressing as he had been ordered to on his first night with Pierce.  
  
Pierce watched him undress then took off his own clothing. He pulled down the blanket and the sheet underneath and climbed into bed, keeping the cover pulled down until Joe climbed in beside him.   
  
Joe crawled in facing the bars. He waited for Pierce to begin and when he did not, he closed his eyes. A few minutes later, he was asleep.  
  
Joe awoke sometime later as a tongue was forced into his mouth. Unlike the other times he had been awakened by Pierce's nocturnal administrations, he felt no pressure. His hands were gentle as they caressed his body but the attempted pleasure offered Joe was lost on him. Like the pain he hadn't felt, he could feel no pleasure either.  
  
When Pierce finished, he pulled Joe close and together they fell asleep. 


	15. Chapter 15

Days became weeks and weeks turned into months. Joe's arm healed and with his days no longer filled with forced prostitution, he had more time to himself. He took some of the classes offered in the mornings and got his GED. Not a real high school diploma which would have been better, but under the circumstances, it was the best he could do. After his morning classes, he would retire to the library and read to await Pierce's arrival after which they would go to lunch and then to the exercise room for a little workout.   
  
His evenings were spent playing cards or watching the tube in the rec room except for Sundays. Every Sunday, Fenton, Laura and Frank still arrived for visitation, praying that Joe would change his mind or at least know they still cared about him and wasn't going to give up even if he had. But the guards had learned not to even bother telling Joe of their arrival for his response was always a refusal. They would let the Hardys wait until all the prisoners had entered and then tell them Joe did not want to have visitation.   
  
At one point, one of the guard's had told them they were wasting their time. He knew Joe wouldn't see them and felt they should move on with their lives but when he said words to that effect, Frank had tried to attack him. His father had been forced to remove Frank, his arm behind his back. Then, Fenton had reported the guard to the warden. Now, none of the guards said a word to the Hardys except to send them on their way as normal.   
  
The warden, an acquaintance of Fenton's, had informed Fenton he would talk with his officers. When Fenton asked about Joe, he had said Joe was adjusting. And, in his opinion, he was. Joe had fallen into a routine that involved more than loitering around in the exercise yard and in his twelve years as a warden, he could honestly assure Fenton that was a good thing.  
  
What the warden did not tell Fenton was that Joe and Pierce had become more than master and slave as at first. They had developed a type of relationship. Joe had truly come under Pierce's protection and no one dared bother him. For Joe's part, he was starting to feel again and occasionally, as the warden took his required strolls through the prison corridors at night, he could hear Joe and Pierce talking. The voices were almost tender as they teased each other.   
  
Back in Bayport, Frank had finished his senior year in high school. Graduation came and went with the only sadness being Joe's noticeable absence.  
  
Frank had decided to forgo college and go straight into business with his father. He had been writing to Joe every day and tried to keep him up to date but he never received a reply and he was almost positive Joe didn't even bother opening them. But Frank was not going to give up on his brother ever again. He felt responsible for the way things had happened. If he hadn't told his dad what Joe had said the night he came home, then he doubted his father would have thought him guilty even for a second. They should have tried harder; sooner. Frank finished his current letter and put it in a pre-addressed envelope. Attaching a stamp, he put the letter in his jacket pocket and exited his bedroom. He paused briefly in front of Joe's door. The door was open and the room looked exactly the same as it had the day he had been arrested. Laura had dusted it and aired it out, but she refused to move even one comic from the floor, sure Joe would be home sometime and want his room the way he had left it.  
  
Frank gave a sigh and walked on. He knew it was time for him to move out and get his own place but since Joe's incarceration, his mother had become more dependent on his being around. She would hear a report on television or the radio about an escaped convict or a prison riot and seek solace in his embrace.  
  
He and his dad had done everything they could to find someone who could have framed Joe but no one they found had the opportunity and the ability to pull it off. As time moved on, they kept their ears and eyes open but moved on to other mysteries .  
  
Frank ran downstairs and poked his head in the living room. "I'm going to Callie's," he told his parents who were nestling on the sofa.  
  
"Call if you're going to be late," Laura told him.  
  
"I will," promised Frank. As he headed out, the phone rang. "I'll get it!" he shouted, picking up the receiver. "Hardy residence," he answered.  
  
"Frank, this is Chief Collig," Ezra's voice came across the line, excited but clipped. "I need you and your dad to come to my office on the double."  
  
"We're on our way," Frank said, hanging up. He pulled out his cell phone as he returned to the living room. He passed on the chief's message to his father, punching in Callie's number as he spoke. Fenton went to pull the car from the garage while Frank apologized to Callie for having to cancel at the last minute.   
  
They arrived at the police station in fifteen minutes and were sent straight to Chief Collig's office. "What's up, Ezra?" Fenton asked once Frank had shut the door behind them.  
  
"We caught the culprit who set fire to the Cohen Security Agency and nearly killed Phil Cohen in the process," the chief informed them. "His name is David Morris."  
  
"That's great!" enthused Frank. "That scum deserves to fry."  
  
"He wants to cut a deal," Collig continued as if Frank hadn't spoke. "He wants the Cohen's to drop the personal charges against him."  
  
"Forget it!" declared Frank, thinking Collig was crazy to even entertain such an idea. "Phil's permanently disabled because of him."  
  
"Frank," Ezra said, looking only at him now. "He says he can tell us who framed Joe and furnish proof." 


	16. Chapter 16

"What?" the word escaped Frank like a breath.  
  
"Is he telling the truth?" demanded Fenton, grabbing Ezra's arm tightly and getting his attention.  
  
"I believe so," replied Ezra.  
  
"Give him a deal," Frank commanded. Why did he even have to ask?  
  
"It's not up to me," Ezra said. "I have talked to the District Attorney and he has agreed on the condition the Cohen's agree. I know Phil's your friend," he said, looking at Frank again. "I thought it would be better if you talked to him."  
  
Frank nodded and got to his feet. "I'm on my way," he said, heading out of the door. He ran out of the building, pulling his keys from his pocket as he ran. Getting behind the wheel, he started the motor and tore out of the parking lot. He came to a stop in the Cohen's driveway in just under ten minutes.  
  
Frank put the car in park; killed the motor; and applied the emergency brake. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the keys from the ignition and opened his door. He had set a speed record getting from Collig's office to here but now his pace was slowed by hesitation. Oh, he knew he was doing the right thing. But how was he going to broach the subject? How was he going to ask Phil to not press charges against the man who had sentenced him to using a cane for the rest of his life? Frank reached the Cohen's front door and hit the button for the doorbell. Two minutes later, the door was opened by a tall woman with short sandy hair and brown eyes.  
  
"Hello, Frank," Mrs. Cohen greeted him. "Won't you come inside? I'm sure Phil will be glad to see you."  
  
Maybe, thought Frank, giving her a strained smile. "Actually, I would like to talk to you and Mr. Cohen as well," he said.  
  
"This has something to do with the fire?" she asked, her eyes clouding over and her lips tightening.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," admitted Frank.  
  
"Have a seat in the living room," she instructed him. "I hope this means that cretin has been captured," she added, heading toward the back of the house.  
  
Frank bit his bottom lip and sat down on the edge of the sofa. His back was stiff revealing to the onlooker he was doing something he didn't want to do but had no choice. It was this thought that assaulted Phil as he entered the room.  
  
Frank stood as the Cohens entered and took their seats. He turned to face them, prepared to tell them about Morris but the words froze in his throat as he saw Phil absently rubbing the side of his knee.  
  
"Sit down and relax," Mr. Cohen ordered Frank. It was obvious to him that Frank knew what he was about to say wasn't going to sit too well with them.  
  
Frank shook his head and swallowed. "David Morris, the man who set the fire at your agency, was picked up today," he said.  
  
"Of, Frank, that's wonderful!" Mrs. Cohen exclaimed, jumping to her feet and throwing her arms around his neck. "You told us you already had the evidence against him. If only that creep hadn't escaped capture when you went after him," she added, scowling at the memory.  
  
"Mom, sit down," Phil said, watching a variety of emotions flit across Frank's features. "There's more."  
  
"What more?" she demanded, backing up and looking at Frank questioningly.  
  
"He wants you to drop all the charges," Frank said. "He'll still be charged with arson and evading arrest," he hurriedly added. "But he wants all the other charges dismissed."  
  
"He's out of his mind!" thundered Mr. Cohen, rising from his chair. His face was red which provided a stark contrast to his green eyes and white hair. "Why would he even think we would do such a thing?"  
  
Frank bit his lip and looked down at the floor. "Frank," Phil said, his voice quiet and his eyes curious. "What haven't you told us?"  
  
Frank took another deep breath then looked in to Phil's eyes. "He knows who framed Joe," he said, forcing the words out. "He said he has the proof that will clear him."  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Cohen fell silent. They knew Joe had been sent to prison almost six months ago for attempted murder. They knew, too, he had plead guilty at his arraignment. "I don't understand," Mrs. Cohen said. "If he was innocent, why did he plead guilty?"  
  
"Because we thought he was guilty," confessed Frank, his brown eyes filled with shame and self-loathing. "He told us he was innocent but when he realized we didn't believe him..."  
  
"He decided no one else would either," Phil guessed. He licked his lips before continuing. "We'll drop the charges."  
  
Mrs. Cohen gasped but said nothing as her son continued to speak. "Joe's been through a worse Hell than me. Get him out. It's his eighteenth birthday tomorrow," he added remembering with a smile. "I'll call the gang and when you bring him home, we'll throw the biggest bash Bayport has ever seen!" 


	17. Chapter 17

By evening's end, Morris had given the police the name of the man who had gone out of his way to frame Joe. It was Anthony Brown, an escaped convict who had been in Mr. Pizza the night Joe had been griping about Roger Billings. He had followed Joe when he left, prepared to catch him in a lonely spot and do him in because it had been Fenton Hardy's fault in the first place he had been sent to prison, but when he had seen Joe toss his necklace away, an evil idea had begun to take root. He found the necklace then called an old acquaintance of his, David Morris, to find out if he knew someone who could do a little mechanical job for him.  
  
Morris, unbeknownst to Brown, recorded all his phone calls in case a matter arose and he could use the recording for blackmail. It was the tape of his phone call that Morris gave the police. The tape was not admissible in court but since it was being used, along with Morris' testimony, to clear Joe and not convict someone, it was enough to clear Joe of the attempted murder charge. By six am, Joe was a free man, only he didn't know it. As for Brown, he had been recaptured five months previously and was continuing to serve out his sentence of life without parole in a prison in upstate New York.  
  
Frank and Fenton left the judge's home with the papers for Joe's release and drove home to pick up Laura. She was ready when they arrived and ran outside, pulling the door shut and locked behind her. She climbed in the car and they were off.  
  
Fenton took the papers to the warden who told Fenton he would have to call for validation. "I know," Fenton replied, his excitement about getting his son back causing him to fidget. When he knocked the pencil holder and it's contents onto the floor, the warden looked at Fenton.  
  
"Look, it's going to take about an hour to make the call and get Joe ready to go," the warden told him. "Why don't you go back out and wait for him? I promise, he'll be through the front gates as soon as possible."  
  
"All right," Fenton agreed, scowling at the delay.  
  
The warden smothered a smile as he picked up the phone. Poor man, he thought, his smile fading. With all Joe's been through in here, his problems are just beginning.  
  
"Happy Birthday, Little One," Pierce whispered in Joe's ear as his eyes began to flutter open.  
  
"Oh yeah, the first of many," Joe replied a bit sarcastically.  
  
It had taken a lot of time and effort on Pierce's part but he had finally managed to reawaken the youth to life. Joe was bitter but considering his family's betrayal, that was to be expected. Joe had, however, come to accept his life as it was.  
  
Joe stretched as Pierce sat up. "Want breakfast or do you want to stay in bed awhile?" Pierce asked. Since it was Sunday, Joe could linger in bed as long as he wanted.  
  
Joe bit his bottom lip and appeared to give the question serious consideration. "Since it is my birthday," Joe said slowly, looking at Pierce through half-closed eyes. "I think a nice, leisurely day in bed would be wonderful."  
  
"A leisurely day in bed?" Pierce asked, a slow seductive smile forming as he reached out and pushed a lock of hair from Joe's face. "And, what, exactly, would you like to do on your nice leisurely day in bed?"  
  
"Guess," Joe said giving him a wicked grin. Pierce looked down at the young man. It amazed him how close he and Joe had become. After all the things he had done to Joe...forced Joe to do, he had forgiven him and accepted him and yet, he still refused to go see his own family who arrived faithfully every Sunday afternoon.   
  
"Break it up, you two," ordered a guard, coming to a stop in front of the open cell.  
  
"Get lost," Pierce growled, not looking away from Joe. "It's Sunday and his birthday. We're staying here."  
  
"Well, Hardy's got a real birthday surprise," the guard said. "One I'm sure he'll like better than loafing around with you all day."  
  
"Yeah, and what's that?" Pierce snarled.  
  
"He's been cleared of all charges," the guard replied. "Clean out your locker, kid," he continued. "You're going home."  
  
Joe looked over at the guard. This was something he had not expected. "How?" he demanded. "Did..." Joe stopped speaking to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. He had to force the words past his lips. "Did my father or brother have anything to do with it?"  
  
Joe had to know. If they had cleared him then that meant they had believed him. They must have been trying to let him know. That was why they kept coming; kept sending the letters he had trashed instead of opening. Why had he been too stubborn to read them? Too self-centered to go and see them?  
  
"No," the guard said. "Some guy made a plea bargain," he told Joe, not seeing the light which had lit his eyes briefly vanish. "Come on," the guard ordered.  
  
"Can I have twenty minutes?" Joe asked, ignoring Pierce's surprised gasp.  
  
"If you want," the guard replied. "But have your locker empty," he added, walking away.  
  
"Why?" Pierce asked, looking down with a worried frown into Joe's sad eyes.  
  
"You're the only one who cares anything about me," Joe told him, the lost, lonely little boy excruciatingly evident in his tone.  
  
"How can you say that after the way I treated you?" demanded Pierce.  
  
"You took your hatred of Fenton Hardy out on me," Joe said. "But when you found out the truth about what was going on, you started being nice to me yet you had no reason to do so."  
  
"You hate your family but you don't hate me?" Pierce asked, a mixture of wonder and confusion on his face.  
  
"I don't hate them," Joe corrected him. "I don't care about them one way or another. They betrayed my trust. You didn't. You did exactly what you told me you would do and when you stopped, it was only to be nicer to me. I am very grateful to you. You made me feel again; want to feel again. You've given me a chance at life. Something I didn't want. Something I didn't believe I even deserved."  
  
"Ah, babe," Pierce said, his eyes misting up.  
  
Joe reached up and stroked his cheek. "One last time, hmm?" 


	18. Chapter 18

When the guard returned, Joe was ready. "Have a good life, Kid," Pierce told him. "And don't look back."  
  
Joe followed the guard down to the warden's office where he was given a set of clothing Fenton had brought with him. Joe used the warden's private restroom to change in. The clothes, some he had owned before, fit snugly against his self-enhanced physique.  
  
"What's this?" Joe asked, once he had returned to the front of the warden's desk and been handed a check.  
  
"Your parents put the maximum allowed into your account every week," the warden informed him. "That is the accumulated amount."  
  
Joe tossed it on the desk. "I don't want it," he refused. He wanted nothing to do with the Hardys...including their money.  
  
"We can't keep it," the warden told him, frowning. He had the feeling Fenton Hardy and his family were in for a major shock.  
  
Joe scowled for a minute, then smiled. "Let Pierce have it," he said, taking his copy of his release papers and leaving the office.  
  
"What's taking so long?" Laura asked anxiously for the twentieth time, staring at the closed gates to the prison entrance.  
  
Fenton put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a tight squeeze. "He'll be out soon," he replied, his voice calm even though his stomach was filled with what felt like hummingbirds.  
  
Frank's gaze remained focused on the gate as his back rested against the car. He was primed. As soon as the gate opened, he would be there waiting. Five more minutes passed. Frank had never felt so nervous. His throat was dry and he felt like he was about to throw-up but he refused to move an inch for fear he would miss Joe's exit.  
  
Fenton stared at the gate, his arm resting on Laura's shoulder. But even in the state she was in, she could sense the tension and fear in her husband. Joe had refused to see them every time they came to visit. He hadn't answered any of their letters and, like Frank, she and Fenton had written every day; mailing two letters on Monday because the post was closed on Sundays.  
  
The gate began to move. Frank raced forward, his parents following at a slower pace, unable to keep up. But when Joe finally walked out, they were all standing there; waiting.  
  
Joe looked into the eyes of the woman who had given him birth. He saw her anxiety; hope.  
  
He looked into his father's eyes and saw sadness and fear.   
  
Lastly, he looked into Frank's eyes. Concern and worry were mixed in with a kind of joy. Not even blinking, Joe turned to his left and began walking away. 


	19. Chapter 19

Laura gasped when she saw Joe. He was still the same blond-headed, blue-eyed son she loved but he had changed so much. His carefree smile was gone only to be replaced by a look she could only describe as hard. He had turned eighteen years old today but he looked closer to his mid twenties and when his once twinkling blue eyes met hers, she saw they had dimmed to a dull gray. She wasn't sure what she had expected to see when she looked into his eyes but it wasn't the cold indifference she found.  
  
Fenton caught his breath when he saw his little boy exit the prison. Joe had aged drastically and Fenton's first thought was who was this stranger? This thought was chased away by an even more over-powering one: Did Joe hate him? Of course he does, Fenton answered his own question. How could he not? Fenton hated himself. This should never have happened. Joe looked into his eyes and Fenton felt overcome with despair.  
  
Frank's heart leapt into his throat when he saw Joe. His brother looked so old. Lost. But not for long, he vowed. He would make it up to Joe if it was the last thing he ever did. Joe looked into his eyes and Frank felt a part of himself die. NO! It's not supposed to be like this! his mind screamed although the words never made it to his lips. Joe turned and walked away.  
  
"No," Frank whispered, unable to let Joe just walk away.  
  
"No!" he shouted, running to catch up with him. He came to a stop in front of Joe and grabbed his arms.  
  
Joe looked into Frank's eyes, his own emotionless as he just stared, saying nothing. "Joe, please?" begged Frank, his eyes wet with fresh tears. "We're so sorry. I'm sorry. I should have believed you. I should never have even thought you would be capable of trying to kill someone."  
  
Joe remained silent, his gaze never faltering. "Please, Joe. I tried. We tried. We looked for who framed you but we couldn't find anyone. We searched everywhere." Frank paused, his hands continuing to hold Joe in place.  
  
"I love you," Frank said, his voice growing softer. "Please give us another chance?" he ended, his hands falling down.  
  
Joe heard Frank's impassioned pleas; watched as he begged, but it wasn't enough to melt the block of ice his heart had become ensconced in. Without acknowledging him, Joe sidestepped Frank and continued on his way. 


	20. Chapter 20

Fenton sat up straighter behind the wheel of the Ford Explorer as he tried to see the road ahead of him. He, Laura, Frank and Frank's wife of four years, Callie, had left the sunny city of LA for the three thousand mile trek home two days before. The four had decided to take a month off and travel but after reaching Los Angeles, a city that strongly reminded them of Joe, they had decided to return home in time for Christmas.  
  
"I can't believe we were wearing shorts just two days ago," Callie said, shivering as her brown eyes gazed in concern at the winter wonderland they had entered once they hit the Rockies.  
  
"We should have been listening to the radio station instead of playing Christmas tapes," Frank commented, frowning as his father slowed the car down even more. "We're miles from anywhere and this storm is only getting worse."  
  
"We can't turn around," Fenton said. "There was ice all over that last road we were on."  
  
"I bet the drop was at least a thousand feet or more over that cliff," Callie said, shuddering. "We almost went over."  
  
"Want me to drive for awhile?" Frank inquired. He knew this weather had to be taking it's toll on his father by now.   
  
"No," Fenton declined. "If we get off the road, we might not be able to get back on."  
  
Callie closed her eyes and leaned her head over. Frank put his right arm on the back of the seat to allow her to snuggle as close as her seat belt would allow, then lowered his arm to her shoulder and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her herbal shampoo.  
  
They rode quietly as Fenton concentrated on his driving. Laura grew weary of watching the swirling flakes assault the windshield and fell asleep, content to let her husband take care of her. In the back seat, Callie, too, had fallen asleep. Frank looked down at the woman who had been there for him during the worst part of his life.   
  
He had thought the six months Joe had been locked up were the worst but the year following his release had been so much harder. Joe had treated him like stranger and walked away. After the initial shock had worn off, Frank had raced to catch up with him, trying his best to get Joe to talk to him. He vaguely remembered his parents shouting at him not to let Joe out of his sight.  
  
He had followed Joe for over a mile before Joe had shown any reaction at all. Joe had stopped walking. He waited silently until Frank paused to catch his breath, then lashed out with a right cross that had sent into the weeds by the roadside. By the time Frank had shaken off the haze and gotten to his knees, he could see Joe climbing into the passenger side of an eighteen-wheeler.  
  
Frank memorized the tag and hurried back the way he had come. It had taken only an hour to locate the truck but the driver said he had dropped Joe off only four miles down the road. A man-hunt had gone into effect with Fenton calling in every favor owed him. Joe never turned up.   
  
When they returned to Bayport, their house was ablaze. Yellow ribbons were all over the trees and a huge yellow bow was hung above the steps to the front porch. The birthday slash welcome home party was quickly shut down and all promised to keep an eye out for Joe. Phil had invited Frank over to his house and showed him a new computer program he had been working on. It would continuously check for a social security number to hit the web. Sites with high security were vulnerable as well as regular sites.   
  
Almost two months after Joe's release, his social security number popped up in Connecticut. Frank and Fenton had flown to the location at once but they were too late. Joe must have realized something was going on because he had quit and cleared out as soon as the manager told him his social security number and other vital information had been sent to the head office via the Net.  
  
Frank quit helping his dad. He spent all his time searching for Joe. Every lead; every report that he had been seen, was investigated personally by Frank. He had become a man obsessed. Almost eight months after Joe's release, he finally got a real lead. Joe had been seen in an abandoned warehouse in a bad part of Cincinnati. Frank talked to the man who had furnished the lead and been given an address.   
  
Joe was there but he hadn't wanted to come out. He had seemed almost afraid. Frank had refused to leave until Joe came out and talked to him. But as soon as he did, a car came barreling down the street and shots were fired. Frank raced towards Joe but it was too late. He lay on the ground with blood oozing. Frank held his brother as sirens wailed in the distance and grew closer. He never relinquished his hold until an officer took his arm and led him away so the paramedics could work on him.  
  
Frank was taken to the hospital where he called his parents to tell them what had happened. By the time they arrived, the doctor had declared Joe dead. He was sealed in a coffin and flown back to Bayport.   
  
Frank had wanted to see Joe at the funeral, one last time, but the lock on the coffin had been broken and the only way to get it open would have been to break into the coffin with an axe. So Joe was buried in the local graveyard not too far form the grave of Iola Morton.  
  
Frank sighed and squeezed Callie tighter. After he had returned home with Joe, she had not left Frank's side. She had held him when he cried and yelled at him when he gave up. She refused to let him believe he didn't deserve to be happy. He had insisted it was all his fault. He had killed Joe but she had made him realize that Joe had made his own decisions as well. Joe may not have deserved what happened to him but by running away when he was released from prison instead of working things out, he had decided his own fate.  
  
Frank's love for Callie had grown as had Fenton's and Laura's for they knew without her, they would have lost both sons. And now, seven years and two months after Joe had been ripped out of their lives by the vengeful Brown, they were content with their lives.  
  
Frank still missed Joe and visited his grave often, but he had moved on as had his parents and it was on rare occasions when his absence was most noticeable. It felt like someone was squeezing his heart but Frank had learned this feeling was not an imminent heart attack, it was just the pain of a loss that would never fully go away.  
  
Tonight was one of those times. Christmas was mere days away and the quiet coupled with the growing dusk and heavy snow only added to the nostalgic atmosphere.  
  
Baby Brother, thought Frank. I wish you were here. Frank closed his eyes to try and block the pain but hurriedly opened them as the car hit ice and began to swerve out of control. 


	21. Chapter 21

The car slid off the road and came to a stop several feet off the road in deep ditch.   
  
Frank sat back in his seat and held his trembling wife as he took a deep calming breath. "Is everyone okay?" Fenton asked, his voice shaky as he tenderly touched his wife's cheek.  
  
Laura took his hand and kissed it. "I'm fine," she assured him.  
  
"We are too," Callie said from the backseat, holding on to Frank. "You girls stay in the car while Frank and I see if we can get out of the ditch," Fenton said.  
  
The two got out of the car, hanging onto the side of it to maintain their footing. "There's no way we can get the car back onto the road!" Fenton shouted above the howling wind. Even so, Frank could barely hear him.  
  
Frank looked toward the front of the car. The high beam lights barely broke through the snow which was hurtling every which way. He looked around. It was impossible to see anything.  
  
They started to get back into the car but stopped when what sounded like a car horn made a whistle on the wind. Fenton squinted and made out a car on the road above. He opened the door and hit the horn in one long blast. A faint one sounded a second after he stopped.  
  
"Come on, Ladies," Fenton said as Frank opened the rear door to help Callie out. "We can't get back on the road but it sounds like someone is willing to give us a ride."  
  
The four carefully made their way to where a dim light shown. Reaching the vehicle, Fenton slid the van door open and climbed in the back with the women while Frank hopped into the front passenger seat.  
  
"Are y'all alright?" asked the young driver in her mid twenties. She glanced at Frank through thick blond lashes then looked at her other passengers.  
  
"We're fine," Fenton replied, smiling gratefully. "We just hit an icy patch and went off the road."  
  
"Is there a motel or something near here?" Frank asked.  
  
"'Fraid not," she denied, putting the van into drive two. "We live a little over a mile from here but our nearest neighbor is about ten miles away."  
  
"I'm sorry we're such an bother," Laura apologized to the kind woman. "But we do appreciate your help."  
  
"Forget it," she said, her voice light and warm. Her long blond pony tail bounced as the van lurched briefly before she got it under control.  
  
"You drive really well," Frank complimented her, thinking about Joe once again. He could drive in any kind of weather.   
  
"My husband taught me," she admitted. "Oh, I could drive before I met him, but I avoided this type of weather. When we bought a house here though, he took me out in our first snow to one of the few flat places around here and had me drive on the snow and ice until I was comfortable."  
  
"Smart man," Callie observed. "Why didn't you ever think of doing that with me?" she added, leaning up and giving Frank a gentle punch on the shoulder.   
  
"Because we don't live in the Rockies," he retorted, grinning back at her.  
  
"Where were you headed?" the driver asked.  
  
"Home," Laura answered. "We've been on vacation but wanted to get back home in time for Christmas so we left LA two days ago and have been stopping for the night along the way."  
  
"Well, it doesn't look like you'll be going anywhere for awhile," she said, her blue eyes fastened to the road ahead. "The last weather bulletin said this won't let up for a couple more days and it will be at least two days after that before the road gets cleared." She made a left turn as she spoke, coming to a stop beside a Jeep Cherokee partially buried in the snow.  
  
"This is it," she told them. "Come on in and don't worry about getting snow on the carpet. It'll dry." She paused before opening her door. "Oh, could you help me bring in the groceries? We could get them all without making a second trip."  
  
"Of course we will," Callie said, reaching behind her and pulling up a bag. She gave the men two a piece and Laura and their hostess one each and she took charge of the last two bags.  
  
They made their way to the house where the young woman opened the kitchen door without a key. "That's not a good idea," Frank told her with a worried frown on his face. "Anyone could just walk in."  
  
"In this weather, they would need to," she replied. "That's why we don't keep it locked at times like this."  
  
"But anyone could just come in and..." he broke off as an Alaskan Husky entered the room, it's teeth bared as it growled low in its throat.  
  
"Easy, Rambo," she told him. "Friends." The dog sat down on his back haunches and let its tongue hang out as it's tail swished back and forth across the floor. Their hostess set her bag on the counter top and motioned for them to do likewise.  
  
"Roxy!" came a worried voice from another room. Frank felt a shiver race down his back although he couldn't quite put his finger on why the voice affected him thusly.  
  
"Hey, Babe," Roxy said as her blond-headed, blue-eyed husband entered the room and enveloped her in his arms, burying his face in her neck. "God, I'm so glad you're home," he whispered fiercely. "I've been worried sick."  
  
"That's not worry making you sick," Roxy told him, pulling back and looking into his eyes. "You're really hot," she told him, touching his cheek with her own.  
  
"No," he denied with a grin. "It's just 'cause you're really cold."  
  
"Maybe," she relented although her concerned look never completely vanished. "Honey, these people went off the road," she said, changing the subject.  
  
Joe looked up, the smile in his eyes disappearing as he looked at the four people who were staring at him with their mouths hanging open. 


	22. Chapter 22

Joe straightened up and pulled Roxy to his side, laying his arm protectively around her shoulders. Rambo, sensing the change in Joe, came to stand in front of Joe facing the four intruders.  
  
"Was anyone hurt?" Joe asked, his voice indifferent.  
  
"No," Roxy answered for them, showing her confusion at their shocked expressions. "Do you know them?" she asked Joe, tilting her head and looking up into her husband's face.  
  
"These are the Hardys," replied Joe truthfully. His wife knew everything about Joe's past, including what had happened to him in prison. They had agreed no secrets and after three and a half years of marriage, both were still true to that vow.  
  
"Oh," she said, her face hardening as she looked at the Hardys.  
  
"You can stay until the roads are clear," Joe told them. "But after that, I want you to leave and never come back."  
  
"Joe..." Laura started, her voice begging but Joe turned to Roxy.  
  
"They can use the rooms your family use when they visit," he told her. "If you want to show them the way, I'll start putting the groceries away."  
  
"Okay," she agreed, reaching up and kissing his cheek. She paused, looking at him curiously as the unusual quietness registered. "Why don't I hear crying?" she asked.  
  
"Oatmeal baths and children's Tylenol," Joe replied, his eyes once again twinkling.  
  
Roxy nodded, kissed him once more, then pulled off her coat and handed it to Joe. "This way," she told the Hardys as Joe hung her coat on the back of a chair and busied himself emptying one of the bags.  
  
Frank wanted to stay and talk to Joe but logic told him now was not the time. They would be trapped for a few days and he would get a chance to talk to him without his wife around. He was certain Roxy was as protective of Joe as he, himself, had been....still was, if only Joe would give him the chance.  
  
Roxy led them through the spacious living room and past a staircase. They hadn't gone far when the sound of a baby crying came from upstairs. Before Roxy could push her way through, Joe was racing through the living room and up the steps. Her heart full of love for her husband, Roxy continued her task.  
  
"The room on the right is the largest," she said, coming to a stop in the middle of the hall. "You will have to share a bathroom," she added, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. "Dinner is usually at six, but for obvious reasons, it will be later tonight. If you get hungry, feel free to raid the kitchen." She paused for a breath before continuing. "There are some spare clothing in the closets. They might be a little big for you guys, but you're welcome to use what you need," she finished.  
  
She started to leave but Laura grabbed her arm, her eyes pleading with the young woman. "Roxy?" Laura asked tentatively, remembering the name Joe had called her.  
  
"Don't touch me," Roxy hissed, causing Laura to release her and step back in fright. "Joe said you can stay so you may. But if I had known who you were I would have left you to freeze."  
  
"Easy," Callie said, stepping forward. "You're more antagonistic than Joe."  
  
"That's because he doesn't hate you. He doesn't care enough about you to hate you," Roxy snarled. "I, on the other hand, despise you. So stay away from him. If you hurt him again I will personally kick you out and it's ten miles to our nearest neighbor and a good twenty to the next town!" 


	23. Chapter 23

They watched Roxy walk away and head upstairs before entering the bedrooms. Frank and Callie took the smaller room on the left while Fenton and Laura entered the room on the right, closing the door. Seconds later, Frank winced as he heard his mother sobbing.  
  
Frank leaned against the door frame, his eyes fastened on the staircase. Why had Joe faked his own death? He couldn't have believed they wanted to hurt him? Could he? After all these years, Frank was just beginning to learn how deeply his actions, or lack thereof, had hurt his little brother.  
  
Frank remained where he was until he saw Joe come back downstairs and head toward the kitchen. "I'll be back later," he told Callie, taking off after him.  
  
Callie closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that things would work out. She couldn't stand to see Frank go through the pain of separation again and she sincerely doubted Fenton or Laura were up to it either.  
  
"Joe, can we talk?" Frank asked, entering the kitchen.  
  
"I don't believe we have anything to talk about," Joe replied, setting some cans into one of the cabinets.  
  
"Let me help," Frank said, starting to take the contents form one of the bags.  
  
"I've got it," Joe said, pulling it out of his reach. "The satellite is out, but if you get bored, you can watch a tape in the living room or get a book from the library. That's the room on this side of the staircase."  
  
"I would rather talk to you," Frank told him,  
  
"I'm busy," Joe said. "You'll have to amuse yourself until the roads are clear."  
  
"There's a blizzard going on," Frank pointed out. "How busy can you be?"  
  
"I work at home," Joe told him, looking him in the eyes.  
  
Frank gave a frustrated sigh. He was making things worse instead of better. "Joe, please?" he begged. "I just..."  
  
Joe looked at him questioningly, one eyebrow raised as he waited for Frank to finish.  
  
"Why did you fake your death?" Frank came right out and asked the question he was dying to have the answer to. "It was for our benefit. I know that much. But why? We would never hurt you."  
  
"You couldn't," Joe informed him causing Frank to wince. "And I faked my death so you would leave me alone. I don't like being hounded," he added.  
  
"I wasn't trying to hound you," Frank said, his voice reflecting the hurt he felt. "I only wanted you to come home."  
  
Joe resumed putting up the groceries. Frank, refusing to be ignored, began unbagging. "That's a lot of formula for one baby," he commented, setting eight large cans of unmixed formula on the counter."  
  
"Yes," agreed Joe, not expanding.  
  
"You have more than one baby?" Frank asked, realizing Joe wasn't going to volunteer any information.  
  
"Yes," Joe replied, continuing to put up the groceries.  
  
"How old are they?" Frank asked, seeing Joe putting small containers of juice and chocolate milk up.  
  
"Two and six months," Joe replied.  
  
"What are their names?" Frank asked, his voice quieter than it had been. He was in a state of mild shock. The brother he had thought dead was not only alive an married but had two children to boot.  
  
"Why don't you go watch a tape of something?" suggested Joe, deciding Frank was getting too personal.  
  
"What are their names?" Frank asked again. "I am their uncle. I have a right...." he broke off when Joe rounded on him, his blue eyes dark with anger.  
  
"You have no rights," Joe responded. "They are my children. You are not my brother anymore."  
  
"I never quit being your brother!" Frank shouted, his own eyes filled with as much fight as Joe's.  
  
"No," admitted Joe, turning and closing the cabinet he had been stocking. "But I quit being yours," he added, walking out of the room with Rambo at his heels. 


	24. Chapter 24

Frank returned to his temporary room to find his parents there with Callie. "How did it go?" Fenton asked, his brown eyes filled with hope.  
  
"Not good," admitted Frank, sitting down on the bed and tiredly running a hand through his hair. He looked at his mother and gave her a faint smile. "But you're a grandmother, twice over," he said, then gave them all the information he had gleaned form as sketchy as it was.  
  
"I think I'll go down and fix dinner," Laura said, rising. "They must have their hands full."  
  
"I'll help," offered Callie.  
  
"Not this time," Laura said, smiling apologetically at her daughter-in-law.  
  
Frank took Callie's hand and pulled her down on the bed beside him. "Um, I think I'll take a shower," Fenton excused himself and left the two alone. He closed the door on his way out.  
  
Joe left the kitchen and headed upstairs. He stopped at the first room and heard Roxy singing a lullaby and decided not to disturb her. He continued down the hall past the room he shared with Roxy and opened the next door. Two sets of blue eyes looked up at him from the floor with excitement.  
  
Joe smothered a laugh and bit his bottom lip as he saw his twin two year old boys playing connect the dots with each other's chicken pox. "Daddy! Daddy!" one jumped to his feet and ran over to Joe. Joe bent down and picked him up, entering the room and sitting down on the bed.  
  
"Now, what have we here?" Joe asked, his eyes twinkling in delight.  
  
"Justin nekkted my dots," Jeremy told his father. "Look!" he insisted, holding up his shirt and showing his daddy his belly. "I got a elfant on my tummy!"  
  
"Oh my!" exclaimed Joe. "You sure do." He traced an outline with his finger causing Jeremy to giggle then looked down at Justin who was holding up his shirt proudly.  
  
"Would you look at that!" Joe said, showing just as much excitement as he had over Jeremy's belly. Joe reached out and traced the outline on Justin's stomach. "You have a lion on yours." Joe assumed, correctly, that this was what had been discovered on his belly since lions were Justin's favorite animal at the zoo and elephants were Jeremy's.   
  
"I want to see mommy," Jeremy said, squirming to get down.  
  
"Mommy is putting your sisters to sleep," Joe told them. "How about I tell you a story while we wait for her?"  
  
"'Kay," agreed both.   
  
"Back into bed," Joe told them. He thought it best to let them keep their animals and wash them off tomorrow morning when they would have to have another oatmeal bath. Why did all four of them have to get chicken pox at the same time? he wondered woefully.  
  
The boys climbed into their own beds and Joe tucked them in, then sat down and started telling them a story. He was almost finished when Roxy entered the room. "Mommy! Mommy!" they shouted, reaching out to her.  
  
Roxy came over and gave each of them a big hug and kiss. "And how are my little men this evening?" she asked.  
  
"I'm itchy," Justin replied.  
  
"Me too," Jeremy said.  
  
"They could use some more calamine lotion," Joe suggested, standing up.  
  
"Story," Jeremy reminded him.  
  
"You finish telling them their story and I'll go get it," Roxy said.  
  
When Roxy returned, Joe had finished the fairy tale and was changing his voice and making funny faces to amuse them. "Oh my, who let that bear in this house?" she demanded, hearing Joe impersonate Yogi Bear.  
  
"It's daddy," Jeremy said, giggling.  
  
"Daddy?" Roxy asked in mock surprise. She winked at Joe.  
  
"Mommy tell us a story," Jeremy begged.   
  
"But daddy already did," she told him.  
  
"Please?" Justin pleaded, turning big blue eyes on her.  
  
"Please?" Jeremy added, giving her the same puppy dog look.  
  
"If you'll let me put this stuff on you first and the gloves so you don't scratch while you sleep," she bargained.  
  
"'Kay," they agreed as one.  
  
"I'll go down and start dinner," Joe whispered to her, standing up.   
  
"Think they will want anything?" Roxy whispered back.   
  
"I fed them at their usual time," Joe informed her. "They just decided to delay their bedtime a bit. Oh, Jeremy has an elephant on his tummy and Justin has a lion on his," he added, warning her in case the boys opted to make her guess what they were.  
  
"I'll be down in a little while," she told Joe, reaching up and kissing him.  
  
Joe left the three alone and moved down to his daughter's room. He opened the door and walked inside. Rhonda and Robyn were both sleeping peacefully. He smiled down at his twin daughters, thanking God for giving him such a wonderful family, then silently exited the room.  
  
Joe returned downstairs and made his way into the kitchen, his nose twitching and his stomach rumbling as he smelled the aroma wafting from within. He pushed the swinging door open and went inside to find Laura busily preparing dinner.  
  
"You didn't have to do this," Joe told her, the warm tone he had used with his family gone only to be replaced with the distant one he had come to use when dealing with people he did not know.  
  
"I know," she said. "But Frank said you have two children. And babies and two year olds are a handful. I just didn't want to add to your and Roxy's burden by making you cook for all of us."  
  
"Our children are not burdens," Joe told her, misunderstanding what she had meant. His appetite gone, he left the kitchen and returned upstairs. 


	25. Chapter 25

"Dinner is ready," Laura told her husband a few minutes later.  
  
"What's wrong?" Fenton demanded, seeing the stricken look in Laura's eyes. She told him about Joe's misunderstanding her in the kitchen.  
  
"Nothing we say seems to come out right," she moaned, trying hard not to cry.  
  
"Maybe we shouldn't try so hard," Fenton observed.   
  
Laura slapped his face. "I want my son back," she snarled at him angrily.  
  
"So do I," Fenton said, pulling her close, not at all mad because she had lashed out at him. "I just meant maybe we should act more natural around him instead of trying so hard not to step on his feelings, which, you must admit, he doesn't seem to show except for Roxy and his kids."  
  
"I don't know," Laura said. "I just don't want to push him any farther away."  
  
"Is that even possible?" Fenton asked, looking down into her eyes. Laura reached up and caressed his cheek. Fenton may not say much, but she knew he was hurting even more than she.   
  
Frank may not even know it, but Fenton was hurting more than any of them. He felt he had let Joe down more than any of them and he knew there was no way to make things better. He prayed that they could at least start over but the chances for that, too, were slim to none and at the rate they were going, even those odds were fading fast.  
  
"I'll get Frank and Callie," Laura said. "You run upstairs and get Roxy and Joe."  
  
Fenton nodded and headed out of the room. He paused at the foot of the stairs to take a deep breath. He hadn't even been this nervous when he had proposed to Laura. He climbed the stairs, wondering which room Joe and Roxy were in.   
  
Fenton heard muffled talking from behind one of the doors and rapped lightly. Seconds later, Joe opened the door. "Dinner is ready," he told Joe.  
  
"We're not hungry. Thanks," Joe added as an afterthought and closed the door.  
  
Fenton turned and began walking away but the thought of Joe being so stubborn that he wouldn't eat just because Laura had cooked the meal made him angry. Laura was trying hard to please Joe and he wasn't about to let him get away with hurting her this way. It had nothing to do with being family, either. He wouldn't treat a stranger this way!   
  
He turned around and went back to the door and took hold of the knob turning it but stopping short of opening it when he heard what was being said inside.  
  
"Easy," Joe was saying as he helped Roxy lean back against her pillow and handed her a cool wash cloth.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Joe," Roxy moaned.  
  
"Hon, you don't have to apologize for being sick," Joe told her, his voice soft and filled with love. "Now, lay back and try and get some rest," he urged her.   
  
"I can't," she declared. "The kids have chicken pox. You can't handle it alone."  
  
"I'm a survivor, remember?" he said. "We both are. We can handle anything."  
  
"I wish my parents were here," Roxy said sadly.   
  
"Me too," Joe admitted, causing Fenton to bite his tongue to keep from crying out they were there. "But they aren't and in this weather, they couldn't get here," Joe continued. "So, just lay back and relax. I'll open the kids doors and leave ours open so we can hear them."  
  
"Why don't you go on down and have dinner?" she suggested. "Just because I'm too sick to eat doesn't mean...oh, no!" she broke off, sitting back up. "You're sick too."  
  
"Just a little nauseous," he admitted. "Take it easy," he insisted, pushing her back one more time. "The sooner you give into this, the sooner you will start feeling better."  
  
"I hope so," Roxy said. "What are going to do if we both get too sick to take care of the kids? We'll make them sicker to say the least."  
  
"Then," Joe paused and took a deep breath. Fenton could tell it was taking a lot of effort to force the words from his mouth. "Then, we'll ask the Hardys for help." 


	26. Chater 26

Fenton eased the door shut and hurried back downstairs. "Are they coming?" Frank asked, a slight frown on his face when his dad entered the dining room and took a seat at the table.  
  
"No," he replied with a shake of his head. He told them what he had overheard about them being sick and the kids having chicken pox. "But at least Joe still feels he can turn to us when he has no other choice," he added brightly.  
  
"Does he?" demanded Frank, scowling. "Sounds more like he would rather have asked a stranger for help than us."  
  
"Which is a good thing," pointed out Callie. "It means he isn't as indifferent as he wants you to believe."  
  
"Or as he believes," Fenton said, absently stroking his chin.  
  
"What do you mean?" Laura asked, giving up the pretense of eating and laying her fork down.   
  
"Maybe Joe only thinks he doesn't care about us," Fenton put forth his hypothesis. "He's put up a wall to keep us at bay," he acknowledged. "But maybe it's more than that. Maybe it's to keep him away from us as well."  
  
"You're saying he's this way because he's afraid we will hurt him again?" Frank asked, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully on his dad.  
  
"Or maybe, he's afraid we hurt him on purpose," Laura whispered. "He... he got very upset when he thought I had called his children a burden. Maybe he believes we think he is one."  
  
"That's ridiculous!" Frank declared, scowling at the absurdity of the idea.  
  
"Is it?" Callie demanded, looking thoughtful. "Let's face it, through no fault of his own he was always in one scrape or another that you had to get him out of until..."  
  
"Until he was arrested and we didn't do everything we should have done," Frank continued for her. "And you think he believes, on some level, that we did it on purpose."  
  
"We have to convince him we didn't," Laura insisted.  
  
"And we will," Fenton declared, a determined look in his eyes. "We are not leaving here until Joe acknowledges he is a part of our family."  
  
"And we can start showing him by taking care of him and his new family while they are sick," Frank said, standing up. He headed into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. Scrounging around until he located a bottle of 7-Up, he pulled it out and closed the fridge. Setting the drink down, he took two glasses from the cabinet and divided the drink between the two. Next, he opened the cabinets until he located a box of saltine crackers and removed a bag. Reaching for the drinks he froze as the kitchen door opened and the only man Frank had continually fantasized about killing stood framed against the whirling white backdrop.  
  
"Well, now," Pierce said, aiming a revolver at Frank. "I can think of only one other person I would enjoy killing more." 


	27. Chapter 27

"Frank, what are you..." Laura entered the room talking but broke off, gasping when she saw Pierce standing in the doorway, a gun aimed at her son. "You!" she snarled, her eyes glazing over in fury.  
  
"Well now," Pierce said, smiling as he entered the kitchen and closed the door behind him. "This might just be my lucky day after all." He lifted the gun and pointed it at Frank's head. "Say goodbye to mommy," he ordered.  
  
"No, please?" Laura begged.  
  
Pierce looked at her in amusement. "Joe may take after you in looks but it ended there, didn't it?" he sneered. "No matter what I did to him, he never once begged. Then again," Pierce added with a slight shrug. "I guess he knew it wouldn't make any difference."  
  
Before Pierce could take aim again, the door opened one more time a ball of fur flew at Pierce, knocking him into the door. Rambo's teeth clamped onto Pierce's wrist causing him to drop the gun.   
  
Fenton and Callie came rushing in to see what was making all the noise, stopping in shock at the scene before them.  
  
"Aren't you going to help him?" demanded Callie of Frank, wondering why he was letting the dog attack this stranger.  
  
"Nah," Frank replied, grinning in delight as Pierce yelped in pain. "Rambo's doing just fine on his own."  
  
"Heel!" ordered Joe, coming into the room. At once Rambo let go of Pierce and backed off. Fenton snatched up the gun and aimed it at Pierce, cocking the hammer.  
  
"Put that down," Joe hissed, his face flushed as he pushed Fenton's hand away. "There will be no weapons in this house."  
  
"Joe," whispered Pierce, his eyes bug-eyed as he looked at him in shock. "What are you doing here? With them?" he added, his voice laced with disgust.  
  
"I live here," Joe informed him, stooping down and picking up Pierce's hand to check out the damage. "You're lucky," he continued. "Looks like Rambo barely broke the skin."  
  
"Rambo, huh?" Pierce asked, smiling. Joe knew how much he liked that particular movie.  
  
Joe grinned at him then called to Rambo. "Come here," he ordered. "Friend," Joe told the dog, putting a hand on Pierce's shoulder. Rambo sniffed of Pierce then licked his face.  
  
"I repeat, what are they doing here?" Pierce asked, his voice a sneer as he jerked his head in the Hardys' direction.   
  
"They went off the road," Joe explained. "They're stuck here until the roads get cleared."  
  
"Great," Pierce stated in a sarcastic tone. He gave Joe an impish grin. "But then, the car I stole went off the road a ways back too."  
  
"Where is some rope?" Fenton asked Joe. "We'll tie him up."  
  
"You'll do no such thing," Joe declared, glaring at him.  
  
"He's an escaped convict," argued Fenton.  
  
"And stranded here as are you," Joe stated firmly. "I told you to get rid of that thing," he added, seeing Fenton still holding the gun. "Take it out to the car, now. I will have no weapons around my children."  
  
"Children?" Pierce asked.  
  
"Joe, have you forgotten..." Frank began but Joe cut him off.  
  
"I've forgotten nothing," snapped Joe. "Pierce is my friend and will be treated with respect or you may confine yourselves to your rooms for the duration of your stay."  
  
The Hardys were stunned. Joe was siding with the man who had abused him in prison over them! It wasn't possible.  
  
"You lied to us," Frank said, glaring at Pierce. "You never did any of those things to him." Frank knew he had to be right. There was no way Joe would ever have Pierce as a friend if he had done even one of the things Pierce had claimed.  
  
"Oh, I did," Pierce bragged, knowing it would hurt the Hardys to hear it. "And more."  
  
"Im...impossible!" sputtered Fenton. "Joe would never..."   
  
"You have no idea what I would, or did do," Joe asserted, his face flushed and his eyes a bit hazy. "And yes, Pierce raped me, sold me and forced me to do all kinds of things I wish I could forget but, unlike you, he never betrayed me." Joe clamped his mouth shut. Where did that come from? he wondered. They can't hurt me anymore. I don't care one way or the other about them.   
  
"Joe," Laura said stepping closer to him.  
  
Joe stood up to move away from her and help Pierce to his feet but destiny had other plans. As he stood, he began swaying. Seconds later, he was falling. 


	28. Chapter 28

"Joe!" shouted Frank, rushing over to catch him as he fell. Frank eased him down to the floor.   
  
"What's wrong with him?" Pierce demanded, his eyes filled with concern.  
  
"He's sick," snarled Frank, glaring at Pierce with renewed hatred. How had he brainwashed Joe into liking him after what he had done to him? Had he also brainwashed him into hating them?  
  
Pierce got to his feet. Fenton trained the gun on him once again but Rambo began growling at him so he lowered it.  
  
"Take the gun to the car," Laura ordered Fenton.  
  
"No. He's an escaped convict," Fenton declared, scowling at Pierce.  
  
"And a friend of Joe's whether we like it or not," Laura reminded him. "Now, do as Joe told you."  
  
"No," Fenton argued. "Not while he is here."  
  
"If you ever want your son to trust you again you will do as he requested," Laura told him, her voice stern.  
  
Fenton gave her a petulant look but snatched a coat from the rack by the kitchen door and headed outside, leaving Frank to keep an eye on Pierce.  
  
"He needs to be in bed," Pierce declared, looking at Joe tenderly. A look which no one noticed because they were all looking at Joe.  
  
Frank felt the urge to knock Pierce into next week but refused to give in to it. His mother was right. He had to acquiesce to Joe's wishes. Instead, he gritted his teeth and started to pull Joe into a fireman's carry but Pierce rushed forward and slid one arm under Joe's knees and another behind his back, and scooped him up into his arms, letting Joe's head rest on his broad chest.  
  
"Where is his room?" Pierce demanded.  
  
"I'll take him," Frank said, reaching for Joe. Pierce may be stronger but Joe was his brother.  
  
"I think not," Pierce stated calmly, his voice deadly quiet as he looked into Frank's determined eyes.  
  
"I am not going to let you hurt him ever again," Frank snarled. "I may not have been able to stop you while he was in prison but there's nothing stopping me from killing you if you try now," he threatened.  
  
"Me hurt him?" Pierce demanded with a derisive snort. "Whose fault was it he was sent to prison in the first place, huh? Whose fault was it he pled guilty to a crime no one but his own family and so-called friends believed he was guilty of?"  
  
When Pierce finished, he strode out of the room with Joe in his arms to look for Joe's  
  
room on his own. Frank's feet remained rooted to the ground. Pierce had been right. Everything that had happened to Joe, including what Pierce had done to him was his fault. If only I had believed in him, Frank thought for the billionth plus time since that fateful day.  
  
Laura left the room to follow Pierce. She wasn't sure which room was Joe's but she knew it was upstairs. Pierce allowed her to lead the way, carrying Joe carefully so as not to bump his feet into the wall on the way up the steps.   
  
Laura saw three open doors and guessed the solitary one on the left belonged to Joe and Roxy. She sighed when she found out she was right. "I'll get a wet cloth," Laura said as he gently lay Joe on the bed.  
  
"Better make it two," Pierce told her, seeing the flushed blond lying in the bed.  
  
"Frank, let's go check on the kids," Callie said after they had left. Frank remained still, too lost in self-pity to move.  
  
"Damn it! Snap out of it!" Callie ordered, deciding it was time for some tough love. "Stop feeling so guilty and do something about it. This is your chance, probably your only chance, to prove to Joe how sorry you are. If you're going to stand there and do nothing then maybe you don't deserve to get Joe back!" 


	29. Chapter 29

Frank blinked. He couldn't believe what Callie had just said to him. I don't deserve to get Joe back? No, that isn't what she said. She said if I didn't do something then I didn't deserve to get him back. Frank shook his head. He took a deep breath and smiled at his wife. "You're right," he agreed. "And I can start by making sure his family is taken care of."  
  
"That's the spirit," Callie said, grinning. Frank took her hand and they left the kitchen and hurried upstairs. They heard Laura murmuring to Roxy and Joe, ignoring Pierce who was trying to bring Joe's fever down by moistening his face with a wet cloth. Frank watched the administrations through the open door and took another deep breath. He had the feeling his blood pressure was going to go through the roof before Christmas ever arrived.  
  
Callie pulled Frank toward the first open door. They went inside and saw two cribs, each holding a little baby dressed in pale pink sleepers. Frank's mouth fell open. "But Joe said they were two and six months," he whispered, not wanting to awaken the sleeping babies. "Why..." he broke off and left the room as another thought hit him. Joe had told him their ages but he hadn't mentioned having a set twins....Two sets of twins, he amended, stopping in the doorway of the second room on the right. He leaned against the doorframe, jumping when his father arrived and put a hand on his shoulder.   
  
"Dad, Joe has four kids," Frank whispered, his voice filled with awe. "Two boys and two girls."  
  
Fenton looked into the bedroom and saw the little blond headed boys sound asleep on their beds. They looked so sweet and innocent and exactly like their father at that age. Fenton began crying and moved away. He returned downstairs to the bedroom he had been given and closed the door behind him.  
  
Callie came out of the girl's room and moved to Frank's side. Tucking her hand through his arm, she laid her head on his shoulder. "They really are adorable," she whispered.  
  
"I can't believe it," he whispered back. "I always thought I...we..." Frank tried to talk but just didn't know how to put it into words.  
  
"You thought we would give your parents grandkids first," she guessed, lifting her head and quirking an eyebrow.  
  
"To begin with," Frank said with a sad sigh, remembering the day Joe had faked his death. "And then, I just wanted to have a son like Joe."  
  
Callie leaned up and kissed her husband. "Why don't you go check on your dad?" she suggested. "I'll keep an eye on the kids."  
  
"Joe," Frank said, turning his head to look at the room across the hall. "I need to see about Joe."  
  
"Your mom is with Joe," Callie told him. "Go see your dad."  
  
"But that...that..." Frank's anger was building again.  
  
"Shh," Callie said, laying a finger on Frank's lips. "Pierce isn't going to do anything now. Joe's sick and your mom is with them," she told him. "Go downstairs and check on your dad and then get some rest," she ordered.   
  
Frank kissed her forehead. "Scream if you need me," he instructed.  
  
"Promise," she said. She watched Frank head downstairs, knowing he, like his father, had a lot of issues to work through. She took one last look at the boys, then straightened her shoulders and went into Joe's and Roxy's bedroom.  
  
"How are they doing?" Callie asked in a low voice of Pierce. Laura had gone into the bathroom to clean out the small waste can which Joe had just finished using.  
  
"What's it to you?" Pierce snapped, not looking away from Joe.  
  
"Don't," Joe whispered, his throat dry and his head pounding. "Not now," he begged.  
  
Pierce growled. "They're sick," he informed Callie. "But Roxy," he quirked an eyebrow at Callie to make sure he had gotten her name right. Callie nodded. "Roxy has stopped throwing up and her fever's coming down."  
  
"Maybe it's just a little virus," Callie said.  
  
"Hope so," Pierce commented. "But I have a bad feeling it's going to get worse before it gets better." He pushed a lock of blond hair away from Joe's forehead in the same tender fashion she had seen Frank use in times past.  
  
"You really care about Joe, don't you?" Callie asked, her voice soft so as not to awaken Joe who had fallen asleep.   
  
"Someone needed too," Pierce declared, not noticing Laura's return from the bathroom. "He was all alone."  
  
"His choice," Callie said. "I know his family tried to see him."  
  
"Sure, after they refused to believe him. Hell, even we thought he was innocent until he pled guilty," Pierce continued. "Joe never once said he hadn't done it. Even after he got burned..."  
  
"Burned?" Callie gasped.  
  
"Yeah, he got burned pretty bad. Didn't even flinch. That was when I realized there was something wrong with him. I thought he hadn't wanted to go and see his family because seeing him with Fenton Hardy would just make us Blues want to hurt him more. But I was wrong. That Sunday after Frankie boy attacked me in the Shadowbox, I made Joe talk to me. Even then he didn't say he was innocent. But when he admitted he didn't want to see them because they didn't try, I knew." Pierce looked up into Callie's brown eyes, his own filled with pain. "You know why he pled guilty?"  
  
Callie shook her head slowly, almost afraid to hear the answer. Was it really because Frank and Fenton hadn't tried to find who really had messed with the brakes, concentrating instead on proving it couldn't have been Joe. Even though they thought he had, the thought came unbidden. Surely Joe could have forgiven them for making a mistake? Joe's made plenty in his lifetime. After all, he admitted to a crime he didn't commit. Wasn't that the biggest mistake he could have made?  
  
"He pled guilty because he thought once he hit population, we would kill him," Pierce said. "It wasn't guilty he was pleading. It was his suicide he was planning." 


	30. Chapter 30

Laura hurried back into the bathroom unseen. She gripped the edge of the bathtub as she sat down, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had always known Joe had opted for the guilty plea because of their disbelief in him, but for him to actually do it just so he would die?  
  
"Laura," Callie's voice came from the other side of the bathroom door.  
  
"Just...just a minute," Laura replied, hastily wiping her eyes. She stood up and went tot he sink and splashed some cold water on her face and eyes, then used a hand towel to dry off with. She rewet the cloth she had gotten for Joe and opened the door.  
  
"Are you okay?" Callie asked, looking at her critically. It was hard to miss Laura's bloodshot eyes but Callie had no idea she had overheard Pierce.  
  
"Yes," Laura lied. How could she be fine when she had just learned Joe had tried to kill himself? "Um, would you help watch Joe and Roxy for a bit?" she asked.  
  
"Of course," Callie agreed at once, taking the cloth from her.  
  
Laura checked Roxy's skin on her way out, glad to find her fever had receded a bit. She reached across the bed and lightly brushed Joe's forehead, earning her a scowl from Pierce. Straightening, she turned and exited the room. She wanted to go to Fenton but a small cry captured her attention and she went to one of the open doors across the hall.  
  
"Hello there," she said, going into the room when she saw the occupant of one of the beds sitting up and trying to scratch his back. She smiled at the little boy who looked so much like his father and came closer, faltering when she saw a duplicate lying asleep in the next bed.  
  
"'Ho 're you?" the little boy demanded, his big blue eyes staring suspiciously at her.  
  
"I...I'm a friend of your father's," Laura answered after a brief hesitation. She didn't want to force Joe into accepting her into his life and if his sons were to find out she was their grandmother, then he might never forgive her and there was already so much for him to forgive.  
  
"Want Daddy," the little boy declared, looking rebellious.  
  
"Your daddy and mommy are sick," Laura tried to explain to him. "They need to get some sleep."  
  
"Want Daddy," the little boy declared again, his expression growing mutinous and his voice an octave louder.  
  
Laura's smile grew. He was exactly like Joe! "Tell you what," she whispered, not wanting to awaken the other little boy. "I'll take you to see your daddy and mommy but we have to be quiet. Okay?" she asked, holding up her hand. He nodded and put his hand in the one she offered.  
  
"My name is Laura," she told him. "What's your name?"  
  
"Jeremy," the little boy answered. "I got a bruder. He's Justin," he continued, growing talkative. Again, Laura was aware of just how much like Joe this little boy was. "And we gotted two babies," he added, looking up at her with serious blue eyes.   
  
"Two?" Laura asked, feeling a bit faint.  
  
"Uh-huh," Jeremy said, nodding enthusiastically. "Robyn and Rhonda. I'm a big bruder now," he declared, proudly puffing out his chest.  
  
Laura and Jeremy entered the room. Jeremy broke away from Laura and ran to his mommy's side. "Mommy," he cried in a worried tone.  
  
Roxy's eyes flickered open. "Baby," she said, trying to rise but Laura was there immediately and gently pushed her back down.  
  
"See, they're going to be okay," Laura told Jeremy. "They just need to rest and get better." Roxy shot Laura a grateful look but her eyes clouded over almost at once as she remembered who she was. "Why don't we go and put some more calamine lotion on your back and then you can go back to bed?" she suggested.  
  
"Want to stay with mommy and daddy," Jeremy said, his nose wrinkling as he puckered his lips.  
  
"Why don't you let the nice lady take care of your itch and then I'll come and tell you a bedtime story?" Pierce said, looking at the little boy and grinning.  
  
"'Ho 're you?" Jeremy asked, tilting his head and looking at him quizzically.  
  
"I'm an old friend of your dad's," Pierce replied. "You can even call me Uncle Pierce," he said. Callie let out an audible gasp at the man's audacity.  
  
"Unkle Perse?" Jeremy repeated.  
  
"Yeah," Joe rasped through dry lips.  
  
"Daddy! You're wake!" Jeremy shouted happily.  
  
"Daddy's sick," Pierce told the little boy.   
  
"He my unkle?" Jeremy demanded, looking at his daddy. "Like Unkle Craig?"  
  
"Close enough," Joe answered. "Now run along and be a good little boy while mommy and daddy are sick."  
  
"'Kay," Jeremy said, returning to Laura's side and taking her hand.  
  
"Thanks," Joe said to Pierce after the two had left the room.  
  
"My pleasure," Pierce told him. "So, how many more you got?"  
  
"Two boys; Jeremy, you met, and his twin brother, Justin."  
  
"And two girls," Roxy added, sitting up a little. "Rhonda and Robyn."  
  
"They are twins too," Callie added, pouring Roxy a little water and handing it to her.  
  
Roxy looked at the water and felt her stomach churn. Callie held up the waste can and took the water away. "Ginger ale?" she asked.  
  
"7-Up, please," Joe suggested, knowing they didn't have any ginger ale. Joe shivered and Pierce pulled a quilt up around his shoulders.  
  
"Looks like you two might have the flu," Pierce commented.  
  
"Great," groaned Joe, closing his eyes. Soon, he was sleeping.  
  
Frank woke up around four-thirty and hurriedly took a shower. After dressing, he ran upstairs and found Callie asleep in the rocker near the girls' cribs. "Hon," he said, gently shaking her shoulder.  
  
Callie's eyes flickered open. "Hi," she whispered, smiling up at him sleepily. "I just had the most wonderful dream," she told him. "We had two little girls and...and..." she broke off as Frank's eyes roamed over to where Joe's daughters lay.  
  
Callie got to her feet. "Not a dream and not ours," she amended. "Their names are Rhonda and Robyn," she continued. "Jeremy, one of the boys, woke up last night. His brother's name is Justin."  
  
"Cool," Frank said, grinning. "All the guys in the family start with a J and all the girls start with a R."  
  
Callie giggled softly. "I hadn't noticed, but you're right. What do you want to bet Joe named the girls and Roxy named the boys?"  
  
"Sucker bet," replied Frank, grinning at her.. "Is mom still in with Joe and Roxy?"  
  
"No," Callie answered. "She fell asleep in the boys' room."  
  
NO!  
  
That one word set Frank off. He was out of the room in a flash and across the hall. He stopped short just inside Joe's room. Pierce was spread out in a chair by the dresser and Joe and Roxy were lying on the bed, their cover in heaps on the floor.  
  
Frank started over to Joe's side of the bed, stopping and changing course when Roxy moaned and sat up quickly. Frank plucked the waste can from the floor as he moved, getting it in front of her with no time to spare. She began retching and a slimy looking lime green liquid came out of her mouth. Frank rushed to the bathroom, wet a cloth and returned in time to hand it to her and take the waste can away. He was glad to see someone had had the foresight to line it with a grocery bag.  
  
"Thanks," Roxy moaned, lying back. Joe twitched and brought his knees up a bit; a sure sign his stomach was bothering him. Frank quickly emptied the waste can and put it in a clean bag from the pile lying on the bathroom floor. He wet another cloth and returned to the bedroom. He set the waste can on the floor near Roxy and, pulling the sheet from the floor, covered her up.  
  
Joe moaned and Frank went over and sat down beside him. "It's okay," Frank told him, his voice gentle as he touched Joe's hair. "Everything's okay."  
  
"Pierce," Joe moaned the name. Frank's hand froze. "Pierce, I need you." 


	31. Chapter 31

"I'm here, Baby," Pierce said, having woken up when he heard Joe moaning. He snatched the wet cloth from Frank's hand and began dabbing at Joe's forehead. "Ah, hell," Pierce said, dropping the rag and starting to pick Joe up.  
  
"Leave him alone," Frank hissed, consumed with hatred at the man who had replaced him in his brother's life.  
  
"He's burning up," Pierce told him, picking Joe up. "Just because you don't care about him doesn't mean no one else does," he continued. "And I'm not about to let him die. I spent way too much time bringing him back to life."  
  
Frank swallowed the bile which rose in his throat and followed Pierce into the bathroom. He turned on the water and put the stopper in the tub as Pierce began unbuttoning Joe's shirt.  
  
"I'll get him undressed," Frank insisted reaching over and taking one of Joe's buttons in his hand. Pierce grabbed Frank's hand and squeezed it hard.  
  
"Touch him again, and I'll kill you," Pierce snarled.  
  
"He's my brother," Frank said, his brown eyes defiant as he glared into Pierce's.  
  
Joe moaned again. "Pierce," the name came softly from Joe's dry lips.  
  
"It's okay, Joe. I'm here," Pierce told him, his voice tender as he released Frank and began unbuttoning Joe's night shirt.. "I'm going to get you cooled down," he promised.  
  
"Roxy," Joe rasped, his throat sore.  
  
"She's sleeping," Frank told him, reaching out to undo the last button on Joe's night shirt.  
  
"I warned you," growled Pierce.  
  
"Stop it at once!" snapped Callie from the doorway. She had come in to check on Joe and Roxy and had heard them arguing. "You two can tear each other up later. Right now, Joe is sick and needs some attention."  
  
"She's right," Frank admitted grudgingly, letting Pierce take Joe's shirt off. Pierce pulled Joe up a bit and, as Callie left them alone, Frank pulled off the rest of Joe's clothing and together they lifted Joe into the tub.  
  
Fenton awoke at seven a.m. and hurried upstairs as Frank had done. He peeked in on the two little girls and saw them just beginning to stir. He stepped next door to the boys' room and found Laura lying on one of the beds with one little blond head cuddled on each arm. Lastly, he entered Joe's and Roxy's room and found Roxy sitting up and sipping some 7-Up and munching a saltine cracker.  
  
"Where are Joe and Frank?" Fenton asked Callie who was sitting at the foot of the bed.  
  
"Joe's fever went up," she informed him. "Frank and Pierce have had him in the tub trying to get it down for hours."  
  
Fenton started for the bathroom but stopped when the door opened and Frank exited with Pierce following close behind, Joe in his arms and conscious.  
  
"WAHHH!" erupted the girls in unison. Roxy started to get up but Callie leapt to her feet first.   
  
"You're not well enough," Callie scolded her. "We'll take care of them," she said, taking Fenton's hand and pulling him from the room.  
  
Fenton picked up one of the little girls and tried rocking her. "They're scabbing over," he said, looking a little relieved.  
  
"Is that good?" Callie asked, pulling out two diapers and offering one to Fenton.  
  
"It is," Fenton acknowledged, lying the baby on the changing table. "It means the worst part is over."  
  
"That's great," enthused Callie, grinning as she changed the baby's diaper.  
  
"Mm...shouldn't we ask Roxy or Joe how to tell them apart before we change them?" Fenton asked, not picking up the sleeper Callie had tossed his way.  
  
"Done," Callie said. "Their clothes have their names on them," she explained.  
  
Fenton looked at the name on the front of the sleeper the baby wore and then looked at the tag in the little outfit Callie had given him. Rhonda  
  
"Hello, Rhonda," Fenton cooed to the baby, tickling her feet. "You are just the sweetest."  
  
"Don't you listen to him, Robyn," Callie told the little girl who was still crying in her own arms. "You're just as sweet."  
  
"And just as hungry," Laura observed from the doorway, having been awakened by the babies cries. "The boys are still asleep," she continued. "I'll go down and fix the girls their bottles."  
  
Frank entered the room a few minutes later. "Can I?" he asked Callie who was rocking Robyn to try and get her quieted down until her bottle was ready. Fenton had managed to get Rhonda giggling by blowing bubbles on her tummy.  
  
"How's Joe?" Callie asked, not relinquishing the baby.  
  
"His fever is almost gone," he said. "And he asked for some soda and crackers."  
  
"Why aren't you getting them for him?" Fenton asked, frowning.  
  
"He asked Pierce for them," Frank replied with a scowl. "Then he and Roxy wanted a few minutes alone so I came in here," he finished, reaching for Robyn.  
  
"No," Callie told him, tapping his hand lightly. "You were too close to Joe while he was running his fever. You don't want to take a chance on giving the babies that virus or whatever it is, do you?"  
  
"No," Frank answered, dropping his arms and moving back in frustration. He hadn't thought of that. "I guess I'll go and start breakfast," he said, leaving the room.  
  
Joe and Roxy were feeling much better by dinnertime and came downstairs. The girls were asleep and the boys sat in their high chairs enjoying all the attention the adults had been lavishing on them.  
  
Laura gave the boys their dinner first then served Joe and Roxy homemade chicken soup. Callie helped her bring in the rest of the meal and they all ate their dinner in silence save for the interaction with the twins which caused Frank to lose his appetite when Jeremy and Justin kept referring to Pierce as their uncle.  
  
After dinner, the dishwasher was loaded and everyone moved into the living room to await the weather report. Joe excused himself to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water. He was still a little dehydrated.  
  
Frank followed Joe into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. "Why?" Frank asked Joe, his voice calm and his expression one of complete puzzlement.  
  
"Why what?" Joe asked after consuming half of his water.  
  
"Why do you treat him better than us?" Frank demanded, his eyes large as they begged for an explanation. "After what he did to you, how could you?"  
  
"He never hurt me nearly as much as you did," Joe replied honestly. "Sure, he did some really terrible things to me to start with but he became my protector...someone who cared about me knowing I was the son of the man who had put him away for life."  
  
"Joe, we cared about you. We still do," Frank said, moving over to stand beside him.  
  
"Then why?" demanded Joe. "Why didn't you try to find someone else?"  
  
"We did," Frank answered.  
  
"When? Before my arraignment?" Joe asked. "After I told you what you had been doing wrong?"   
  
"No," admitted Frank, looking down. "After. We looked but we couldn't find anyone."  
  
"You started looking for who framed me as soon as my arraignment was over?" Joe asked, a glimmer of hope breaking through the wall around his heart.  
  
"No," Frank replied, still looking down in shame and not seeing the hope be born...and die. "We were sent to California to stop a terrorist threat," he explained. He looked up, his eyes begging for understanding. "There were thousands of lives at stake."  
  
Just one more time I was a problem, thought Joe, strengthening his resolve. "Doesn't matter," Joe said, shrugging and moving away. "After my twenty-four hours in the hole was over, it was too late to help me anyway."  
  
"What do you mean?" Frank demanded, looking at Joe with a breaking heart. He looked so vulnerable as he spoke of the past.  
  
"I got jumped as soon as I hit population," Joe recalled. "They were going to rape me, all of them at once, but Pierce stepped in and told everyone I belonged to him. He saved me."  
  
"But he sold you!" objected Frank.  
  
Joe shrugged again. "He hated Fenton," Joe said, causing Frank to wince. "And me by association. But at least he kept it one on one."  
  
"How did you survive?" Frank asked, his eyes bright with unshed tears. He needed to know because he was positive had it been him, he wouldn't have.  
  
Joe looked Frank in the eyes. "I stopped feeling," he answered. 


	32. Chapter 32

Pierce came into the kitchen and saw Joe leaning against the sink, half a glass of water in his hand looking at Frank who seemed to be shell-shocked. "He giving you a hard time?" Pierce asked Joe.  
  
Joe stared at Frank for almost a minute then turned to Pierce. "No," he responded, finished his water and left the kitchen.  
  
Frank glared at Pierce. "Why are you pretending to care so much about Joe?" he demanded.  
  
"Why should I tell you anything?" Pierce retorted, following Joe's path out of the kitchen.  
  
Frank grabbed a glass and filled it with water. Downing it, he returned to the living room and sat down on the floor by Callie's feet. He watched Joe holding Jeremy on his lap while he teased Justin, who giggled at him from his mother's lap until Callie reached down and stroked his hair. Frank looked up into her smiling eyes and felt a little better knowing she still loved him even though he had done the unthinkable by alienating his brother.  
  
It was almost time for the weather report and Fenton flipped on the radio a fraction of a second after a cry sounded from upstairs. Joe swiftly lifted Jeremy and placed him on Roxy's knee beside Justin then ran upstairs.  
  
Pierce rose and followed Joe up the stairs. Frank, not about to be left out, followed Pierce. When Frank reached the doorway he saw Joe starting to change one of the girl's diapers while her sister gurgled in the next crib.  
  
"Thanks," Joe told Pierce out of the blue.  
  
"For what?" Pierce asked, confused. Frank stepped away from the door. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop but he had missed so much of Joe's life and he fully intended to find out everything he could. Maybe he would learn something to help him regain Joe's trust.  
  
Yeah, right! his subconscious nagged. He's supposed to trust you when you eavesdrop on him? Okay! Frank admitted to himself. He was jealous of Pierce's relationship to Joe and wanted to change it.  
  
"For taking care of me," Joe replied.  
  
"The others helped," Pierce admitted honestly.  
  
"I meant, well, now too, but, then," Joe explained. He paused as he removed Robyn's diaper. "You helped me to feel again. If it hadn't been for you, well, I don't know where I would be right now."  
  
"What happened to you?" Pierce asked. "I know you didn't just meet Roxy and everything was all rosy. I wish it had been for you, but it wasn't, was it?"  
  
"No," Joe admitted, busying himself with putting a clean diaper on Robyn. "After I got through the gates, the Hardys were there. I just...I couldn't handle seeing them." Frank felt tears spring to his eyes when he heard the loneliness in Joe's voice. "I kind of reverted. All the time you put into making me feel again..." he broke off and took a deep breath. "I felt. Too much. I tried to shut it out. I tried everything I could think of but it wasn't working. So when this guy came along and tried to treat me like you did, I let him. I ended up moving in with him."  
  
Joe paused briefly before continuing. "Frank kept trying to find me. Craig knew I didn't want to be found so he arranged to have Frank believe I was dead so I would be left alone. It worked. For almost a year, I stayed at Craig's condo. I didn't really do anything. I worked out, took walks, waited for him to come home from his business trips so he could help me forget."  
  
Joe stopped and sniffed. He hadn't been able to cry during that time of his life but now, he didn't have quite such an easy time hiding his emotions. "One day, not long after Craig had left, his sister arrived. She had been raped by the guy who lived next door to her. We got to know each other but neither one of us talked about what had gone on in our lives. Then one night, we started talking. She told me about her neighbor, also her best friend, until the night he raped her. Then it was my turn. I told her about going to prison and about you and, well, everything.  
  
"When I finished my tale, Craig came in. He had come home and started listening to what that bastard had done to her. He said he started to come in after that but then I had started talking and he didn't want to interrupt." Joe smiled and looked over at Pierce. "Craig stopped being my lover that day and became my friend. He made me and Roxy..."  
  
"Roxy?" Pierce ejected in surprise.  
  
"Roxy is Craig's sister," Joe told him. "Craig made us both go in for rape therapy. The therapist put us in a recovery group. Eventually, Roxy and I realized we loved each other and we got married. We moved here just after our honeymoon. It's a wonderful place," Joe continued. "A little isolated," he admitted. "But that was what we liked about it. We didn't have to deal with anyone."  
  
"But now?" Pierce asked, hearing hesitation in Joe's voice.  
  
"We still like it but neither of us think the isolation is good for the kids. We just..." Joe broke off.  
  
"You don't know how to interact with other people now," guessed Pierce.  
  
"Yeah," Joe admitted. "I don't want our fears or our past to affect the kids but how are we going to prevent it when we, I, still can't confront it?"  
  
"You," Pierce latched on to Joe's choice of words.  
  
"Roxy's moved on," Joe said. "I'm the reason we're still out here." He looked into Pierce's eyes, his own filled with fear. "I'm scared," he confessed. "I don't want to get hurt again." 


	33. Chapter 33

Frank moved away and went downstairs to the bathroom, locking himself inside. He looked in the mirror. Selfish bastard, he sneered at himself. All this time he had only thought of his own pain at losing his brother. He had felt anger; revenge; fear; loneliness and grief but always, his own. Only now did he realize what his brother had been going through.  
  
Of course Joe cared about Pierce. Pierce understood and commiserated with Joe. Pierce put Joe's feelings over his own. Something Frank should have done. Something he would do from now on no matter what the sacrifice to himself or his parents.  
  
His resolve firmly in place, Frank exited the bathroom and returned to the living room. Joe and Pierce had returned in his absence and were on the floor with the babies and twins between them. Frank took the chair Joe had vacated when he had gone upstairs earlier. He didn't want to push himself on Joe. Joe didn't need that. What Joe needed was the acceptance for the man he had become, not the boy he had been.  
  
The weather report came on. "That's a relief," Roxy said when Fenton turned the radio off. "Now it's finally over it shouldn't take more than two or three days for the roads to be cleared."  
  
Only Joe and Roxy seemed excited by this news. Frank watched Joe through his lashes. Joe seemed happier. Relieved. Had their being here really been so stressful for him?  
  
Fenton was watching Joe and making the same observation. But unlike Frank's conclusion that Joe would be happier without them, he knew their leaving would only complicate matters. Fenton had been watching Joe all day and it was obvious to him that Joe was far from indifferent. Joe cared more than he had even admitted to himself.  
  
The next morning everyone slept late but Joe and Roxy they got up when their alarm went off at five, checked on the boys then went into the girls' room. Rhonda and Robyn were just waking up so Joe and Roxy changed them, fed them, then took them down the hall to the last room on the right.  
  
They set the babies into the playpen and gave each one a set of plastic keys then began working. Their deadline was coming up and they had started falling behind schedule when the boys, who had been infected first, began showing the first symptoms of chicken pox.  
  
Two hours later, Roxy was trying to hush the girls who were growing tired of the playpen when there was a light rap on the partially open door.  
  
Joe turned around and saw Laura and Fenton standing there. "What are you doing?" Fenton asked, the spot between his eyes wrinkled as he looked around the small room.  
  
"Working," Joe answered, frowning at the intrusion.  
  
"What do you do?" Laura asked.  
  
"Write," Joe answered, still volunteering no information but not quite ignoring them either.  
  
Laura bit her bottom lip, afraid to ask any more questions in case they pushed him farther away. Fenton's eyes hardened a bit. Laura felt the tension take hold of Fenton and quickly spoke up to keep him from saying something he would later regret.  
  
"Why don't we take the girls?" she suggested. "You two will be able to get more done and we'll take them and the boys downstairs and watch them."  
  
"Thank you," Roxy answered before Joe could say a word. His reactions and attitude since the Hardys' arrival had not gone unnoticed by her. Fenton would have been pleasantly surprised to learn she had drawn the same conclusions he had. Joe needed them. He just didn't realize it.  
  
Joe turned and scowled at her but let Fenton and Laura take the girls. It was almost noon when Joe stood up and stretched. He hadn't minded skipping breakfast because his stomach was still a little queasy but now he was starving. "Ready for a break?" he asked, leaning over and nuzzling her neck.  
  
"No," she replied, smiling. "I want to get this chapter done. I'll be down in a little while," she promised.  
  
Joe kissed the top of her head and went downstairs. The Hardy men were gathered in the living room playing make-believe with Jeremy and Justin while Laura and Callie were giving each of the girls their undivided attention. Joe's eyes took on a far away look as he remembered a time when he and his brother had put on a little play for their parents. They had applauded loudly, bragging on them for their acting ability and ingenuity.  
  
Joe shook his head to chase the memory away. It wasn't good to dwell on the past because it only made the present more painful. Joe left the room without a word and went into the kitchen.  
  
"Hey, kid," Pierce greeted him when Joe came in. Pierce was sitting at the small table munching a chicken salad sandwich. "Sit down," Pierce told him. "I'll make you a sandwich."  
  
"That's okay," Joe replied. "I got it." He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the almost empty container of chicken salad and set it on the counter.  
  
"What have you and Roxy been doing upstairs all morning?" Pierce asked as Laura and Fenton entered the room.  
  
Joe looked at them. "We came to fix lunch," Laura explained. "Don't fill up," she added.  
  
"I can take care of it," Joe said, laying the bread he held down. "I hadn't realized no one had eaten yet."  
  
"We'll fix lunch," Fenton said, frowning. It had come to his attention that Joe was harder on Laura than on himself and Frank.  
  
"I'll fix lunch for the boys, then," Joe said stubbornly.  
  
"Don't they eat real food?" Fenton demanded, his brown eyes flashing as he tried to keep his growing anger in check.  
  
"Fine," Joe said, gritting his teeth and picking up the bread and salad. "Fix lunch." He went and sat down with Pierce.  
  
"Now, what were you two doing?" Pierce asked Joe again.  
  
"We write mysteries," Joe informed him. "My therapist suggested I write things down that bothered me but I couldn't get my feelings into words. Roxy started listening to me and typing it up for me. We worked so well together, we thought we would give writing a book together a shot. We got turned down flat by five agents and were ready to toss the manuscript when Craig took it away from us. Two months later, we had our first commission check. A year later, we had a contract to put out one new book in our own series every six months."  
  
"Cool! What do you write? I've never seen your name on a book," Pierce said.  
  
"That's because when Roxy and I got married, I took her last name," Joe said, fueling Fenton's anger even more. "We write the Langley Mystery Series."  
  
"You are that Joe and Roxy Northrup!" Pierce almost shouted in delight. "I've read all your books. You've had at least one and sometimes two books on the bestseller list for over three years."  
  
"We make a good team," Joe admitted modestly.  
  
Pierce put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Tell me about Sophia," he commanded, naming one of the most recent regular characters in the series.  
  
"You'll have to talk to Roxy about her," Joe said. "I deal more with the facts part of the series. Roxy makes it interesting."  
  
"You don't mind if I go and talk to her now, do you?" Pierce asked, clearly excited.  
  
"Go ahead," Joe told him, taking a bite out of his sandwich to smother his grin as Pierce left the room at a run. 


	34. Chapter 34

Fenton waited until Pierce had left the room then went to stand across the table in front of Joe. "How dare you?" he asked, barely containing his anger. "Your mother asked you about your work and you gave her one worded replies but when Pierce asked. Pierce, mind you. The man who allegedly raped you in prison, you not only answer, you go into great detail." Joe looked up into Fenton's brown eyes that were almost black with rage as he listened.  
  
"You have every right to be angry at Frank and me but your mother has done nothing wrong. She was not involved in the investigation. You had no right to disown her as you did your brother and myself. I have tried to make allowances for what you went through, but I am seriously beginning to think you enjoyed it!" Fenton ended, speaking without thinking. He only wanted to hurt the stranger Joe had become for hurting Laura.   
  
"Enjoyed it?" Joe stood up and laughed almost hysterically. Frank entered the kitchen unnoticed and stood just behind his mother. He had heard his father from the living room and left Callie to watch the kids while he went to see what was going on.  
  
"Oh, sure! I enjoyed it. Having a group of twenty or more men start to rape you is always fun," he said sarcastically. "Almost as much fun as having your cell mate sell you for a pack of cigarettes at least twice a day," Joe continued, not paying attention to the effect his words were having. "And hey, you want to know the best part of life in prison? It's being available to anyone who is reminded of how much they hate your old man every Sunday."  
  
For the first time, the Hardys realized how much they had hurt Joe on a continual basis. "Even being auctioned off for an evening's entertainment for the entire cell block can't compare to that."  
  
"Yeah, I enjoyed prison. I enjoyed it so much I did strip tease numbers for the inmates on request," Joe continued, tears of humiliation falling down his cheeks.  
  
"Joe, I..." Fenton began, reaching out and touching him.  
  
"Don't touch me!" Joe hissed, his blue eyes blazing even through his tears. "I hate you. You let me go there. You let them..." Joe broke off and turned around. His shoulders continued to shake as he tried to regain control of his emotions.  
  
"We didn't," Fenton said. "We tried out best to get you to use the insanity plea."  
  
"I wasn't crazy!" Joe snapped. "And I wasn't guilty," he added. "Do you want to know why I pled guilty? Do you even have any idea what made me do that?"  
  
"Because we let you down," Fenton said sadly. "Because I didn't do what I had always taught you and your brother to do in a case," he said, remembering Joe's final words to them in Bayport. "I didn't look for the real guilty person. You pled guilty because your brother and I thought you were guilty."  
  
"No," Joe denied. "I pled guilty because I let you down. It was your job to question my innocence and look for clues. But when even mom didn't believe me...." Joe stopped speaking to catch his breath and sniff. "When she didn't believe in me, I knew I had let you all down. If I hadn't been such a bad son then you would have trusted me. But you didn't. And I had tried so hard to be what you wanted."  
  
"You," Joe continued, looking in his father's eyes. "You were always so proud of Frank. Everything he did was perfect. But when I tried to do what he did, it never came out right. I never wanted to be a detective. I did that for you. I hated making enemies and risking my life and trying to help people when I didn't know if I could. I just wanted you to love me as much as you loved Frank. But I kept screwing up. I kept getting into trouble.   
  
"I pled guilty because I wanted it all to end. I didn't think about Pierce. I hadn't even considered what did happen to me. I thought after I hit population, it would be over. Someone would kill me and then I would be dead like I should have when Al Rousseau blew up the car. It should have been me. I wish it had been," Joe finished softly.  
  
"Don't say that!" Fenton snapped, angry at himself for what he had unknowingly done to his son. "Don't ever wish you were dead."  
  
"No," Joe agreed. "I don't wish I were dead. I wish I had never been born. The one reason I do hate her," he added, shooting Laura a venomous glare.  
  
"It was me?" Laura asked in a soft voice moving closer to Joe. "You wanted to die because of me?" she asked again, tears slipping unchecked down her face. He had wanted to die because she didn't believe in him? "Oh, God, Joe. I'm sorry. I would never, ever intentionally hurt you," she begged him to believe her.  
  
"No," Joe said. "That isn't who you are," he admitted. "You wouldn't hurt your worst enemy," he added, looking at her through pain filled eyes. "But you did hurt me. You loved me unconditionally even with all my shortcomings. But when it mattered most, you didn't believe in me and I couldn't bare to see the pain that caused.   
  
"You thought I had tried to kill someone and I could see it hurting you. I loved you so much. All of you. I didn't want to hurt you anymore, that's why I didn't want you to come around me. I knew if you saw me when I was in prison, you would start crying. I told myself I didn't go and see you because I didn't care about you anymore, but I was afraid to see you.  
  
"Everything just kept getting worse and worse and finally, I did quit caring. I quit feeling. It didn't matter any more what I was forced to do or who it was with." Joe sat down, looking at his hands. "I just did as I was told, hoping that they would grow tired of the games they were playing with me and make it end. But it didn't work out that way.  
  
"Somewhere along the line, Pierce started taking care of me for real. He stopped making me do things with other inmates and kept me for himself. He was nice to me. Me. The son of the man who had locked him up for the rest of his life. He made me feel again. He brought me back to life. And then...  
  
"Then I got released. Not because of anything you had done to help me, but because someone had made a plea bargain. I realized then that you really didn't want me around. I had been a burden you were glad to be rid of. When I got outside and you were there, I knew it was only because you felt responsible. I knew you didn't love me anymore. Maybe you never really did," he added, giving a half-smile. "But seeing you hurt so much. I wanted to run into your arms and let you hold me. Tell me it was all a bad dream. But it wasn't. And I couldn't bare to look at you. The pain was so real, it was blinding. So, I pretended to stop caring again.  
  
"I met someone who took care of me. He arranged the phony shoot-out and my death so you would leave me alone. He sensed how much just seeing you hurt me. Then, later, he arranged for me to have rape therapy. A few years later, I married his sister and had some wonderful children, but I..." Joe quit speaking and sniffed as he tried to stop the memories from returning and overwhelming him.  
  
"I've been doing okay. I'm happy, or at least relatively happy, except when I see you on television or in the paper and then the pain comes back." Again, Joe sniffed. "Why did you have to come here?" he demanded, looking into his father's eyes once more. "Haven't I been punished enough?" 


	35. Chapter 35

Realizing he had just let out everything he had kept bottled up for the past eight years, Joe ran out of the kitchen, past the living room and upstairs to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.  
  
Frank followed close on Joe's heels but Pierce and Roxy emerged from the room at the end of the hall before Frank could turn the knob. "Stop right there!" Pierce commanded, his expression grim. "What have you done to him now?"  
  
"I..." Frank couldn't answer. He could barely even speak. Joe's words had left him, like his parents, stricken with guilt and something more; grief. Had they really made Joe feel imperfect? Unloved? Nothing could be farther from the truth. Frank loved Joe more than he had ever loved anyone, his own wife included. And as for Joe not being good enough? Where had he ever gotten such a ridiculous notion? Frank had always envied him. He couldn't remember the times he had wished he was as popular, carefree, and giving as Joe.  
  
Frank swallowed and closed his eyes. How was he going to tell Joe that the past eight years had been a mistake? They didn't hate him. They never had.  
  
"Stop stalling," snarled Pierce, flexing his muscles as Frank opened his sad brown eyes. "What did you do to him this time?'  
  
Roxy laid a hand on Pierce's arm and looked at Frank. "Go back downstairs," she instructed him. "You can talk to him later."  
  
"But I need..." Frank began to tell her he needed to tell Joe he was wrong but Pierce cut him off.  
  
"Do you honestly think we care what you need?" Pierce sneered. "Our only concern is Joe. Now do as Roxy asked or I'll take you down personally."  
  
"I'm not afraid of you," Frank told him, looking him in the eyes. "But I'll go because Roxy is right. Seeing me now won't do Joe any good. He's been hurting for too long. It's time for some healing. And right now, he needs both of you more than he needs me," with these words, Frank turned around and headed back downstairs.   
  
Confused, Pierce just shook his head and reached for the knob. "Wait," Roxy stopped him. "I think, right now, it would be best..."  
  
Pierce scowled as she spoke but nodded his head and finished her words. "If I were somewhere else. I'll go play with the kids," he said. "Yell if he does need me?"  
  
Roxy nodded then watched as he went downstairs before entering the bedrooms he shared with her husband and quietly closed the door behind her.  
  
Joe was lying face down on the bed, his body quaking with the sobs caused by his deep sorrow. Roxy lay down on the bed beside him and pushed a lock of his hair away from his ear, alerting him to her presence. Joe scooted over and she took him into her arms. Joe continued to cry well into the evening, not stopping until he had fallen asleep.  
  
"Want mommy!" demanded Justin, banging his fists on the tray of his high chair and causing his plate to rattle and his drink to turn over.  
  
"Want daddy!" demanded Jeremy, repeating the movement of his brother.  
  
The two boys had been with the Hardys all day. They had skipped their customary naps and were now getting cranky as they refused to eat supper until they got what they wanted, which, in this case, was their parents. The girls had been changed and fed recently and had drifted off to sleep a little over an hour earlier.  
  
"Your mommy and daddy are resting," Laura explained for the fiftieth time. "They will be down later," she promised, knowing at least Roxy would. She wasn't sure Joe would put in an appearance before they left. Not that she wanted to leave, but she had already caused Joe so much pain she would do whatever was necessary if only it would make him feel better.  
  
"Want Daddy!" Jeremy shouted again, stubborn as usual. It was clear to see which was the dominant twin.  
  
"I'll take you to see your mommy and daddy," Pierce said, rising from his seat at the table.  
  
"You shouldn't..." Fenton began but Pierce cut him off.  
  
"It will make him feel better to see his family," Pierce told him.  
  
"Daddy still sick?" Justin asked, a frown on his little face.  
  
"Yes, dear," Roxy answered, entering the dinging room. "And he's sleeping now so we're going to leave him alone for awhile," she added, looking through narrowed eyes at Jeremy who had picked up his spoon filled with mashed potatoes and was eyeing the wall speculatively. Jeremy glanced at his mother, his lips twitching, then put the spoon in his mouth.  
  
"How is he?" Frank asked. All the adults turned to look at her as they awaited her answer.  
  
"What happened?" she countered. Joe had done nothing but cry. He hadn't uttered a single word and she was too wise to try and get him to talk but she had to know what had happened to bring out all the sadness and anger he had been holding onto.  
  
Pierce leaned back and crossed his arms, grinning like a Cheshire cat. No one would tell him anything when he had come down but he dared them to defy Roxy in her own home.  
  
"Joe told us why he quit being a part of our family," Fenton said, his words portraying all the anguish he felt. He had instigated the showdown. He had forced Joe to be honest and that honesty had cut a wound so deep, he knew he would never heal. Joe's pain hadn't been because of their ineptitude as detectives as he had believed, but his lack of emotion through the years. Somehow, he had convinced Joe he wasn't loved.  
  
"And?" Roxy pushed.  
  
"He's wrong," Fenton rasped. "He is so very wrong."  
  
"I'm glad," Roxy replied, giving him a little smile. "He needs you."  
  
"You're crazy!" Pierce snapped at her. Justin started to cry. "He doesn't need them. They have done nothing but hurt him."  
  
"You can't be hurt by someone if you don't care about them," Roxy explained, picking Justin up and letting him snuggle his nose in her neck. "And Joe is still hurting."  
  
Pierce obviously wanted to argue the point. His face kept changing into different expressions until he finally admitted defeat. He looked at Laura. He knew how Joe felt. Joe hadn't come right out and told him in prison, but Pierce had paid enough attention to know what had really driven Joe from his family. "If you hurt him again," he said, his voice calm but threatening. "Any of you. I will kill you."  
  
"She hurted daddy?" Jeremy asked, giving Laura a look that was filled with undisguised hatred.  
  
"She didn't mean to," Roxy told him, not seeing Justin turn his head and glaring at Laura too.  
  
"None of us meant to," Fenton said. "But we did and we have a lot of making up to do. If he'll let us," he amended sadly.  
  
"Don't leave until you give him a chance," Roxy begged.  
  
"We won't go unless he makes us," Frank replied. "We don't want to hurt him anymore and if our going away will help stop the pain, then we will." Only Callie knew how much it cost Frank to say that. Frank woke up, frequently, drenched in sweat because of nightmares he had about Joe. He would cry until the early morning hours before falling, exhausted, back to sleep.  
  
"No," Roxy said. "Don't give him that option. He's been hurting for as long as I have known him and it isn't the kind of hurt that will ever go away on its own. He needs you even if he won't admit it. You have to make him see that you need him too." 


	36. Chapter 36

When Joe awoke the next morning, he felt terrible. His eyes were red and puffy and his head felt like the Philharmonic orchestra was performing Beethoven's fifth symphony out of tune in his head.  
  
His stomach growled and he sat up, swinging his feet off the bed. At some point in the night he had managed to get under the cover although if he had done this under his own steam or with help, he had no idea. All he knew was the snow had stopped and their road would be cleared today. Everyone would leave and he and his family would start getting back to normal.  
  
He thought about not going downstairs until after the Hardy had left, but the smell of bacon was wafting into the room and its tantalizing aroma was stronger than Joe's fears at the moment.  
  
He quickly dressed and went downstairs. Meeting up with Pierce in the living room, he gave him an apologetic grin. "Sorry I ditched you yesterday," he said.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Pierce said. "Need to talk?"  
  
"No," Joe said, shaking his head. "I'm okay."  
  
"Right," Pierce agreed, giving him a sardonic smile. "And it's a balmy summer day outside."  
  
Joe sighed. "I can't get away with anything around you, can I?" he asked.  
  
"Nope," Pierce agreed in a cheerful tone. "Now, talk to me. You've kept this inside for way too long."  
  
Joe looked at him quizzically. "You already know about yesterday," he observed.  
  
"A bit," Pierce admitted. "But you were overwrought and they were the ones you were having problems with. Talk to me. I make a real good sounding board."  
  
Joe gave him a sad smile. "You have never let me down," he said. "And I love you like a brother. Well, maybe not," he added on second thought, frowning.  
  
"Joe, relax. I love you too. Now, this is hard for me to say, so listen up 'cause I'm not gonna say it again. You need to sit down with the Hardys and listen to them," Pierce told him, putting an arm around his shoulders.  
  
"They hurt you and they have been hurt by what they did but I think that maybe, there is more to this whole mess than just your incarceration and their betrayal. Whatever happened between you and them started a long time before then and you need to work it out. It's gonna eat at you until it kills you if you don't and those kids of yours deserve a father for as long as they can."  
  
"A father," Joe said in disgust, his expression sour. "What kind of father am I going to be?" he asked. "I made a lousy son and brother. Whatever made me think I could be a good husband and father?"  
  
"I'll hear no more of that kind of talk," Pierce told him sternly. "I've seen you in action and I've talked to Roxy. We spent a few hours last night talking and getting to know each other better after the kids went to bed. She's an alright girl but YOU are still better than she deserves."  
  
"Now just one minute!" Joe began angrily, his face going red. He couldn't believe Pierce was insulting his wife. She was perfection!  
  
"Calm down!" Pierce said, laughing at Joe's immediate defense of Roxy. "See, you are her knight in shining armor. How could she want anything more than what she has? How could those kids of yours ask for a better father? They couldn't. I know you. You would die before you would ever let anything happen to them and if it ever came down to one of them going to prison, you would take him and move out of the country first."  
  
Joe's guilty look confirmed that he had thought that himself. "Your dad has made some mistakes. A lot, I'll grant you. And so did your brother and mom. But I honestly think they do love you. Give them a chance to show it."  
  
"You're taking their side now?" Joe demanded in disbelief, his blue eyes wide in his pale face.  
  
"No. I'm on your side and I always will be no matter what. See, you gave me something in prison too. Someone to care about. And even though I still hate your old man, I know that he can give you something I will never be able to. Peace."  
  
Fenton moved away from the kitchen door where he had been standing still and listening to the conversation in the next room.  
  
"What is it?" Laura demanded, looking at her husband fearfully. "Was it Joe?"  
  
Fenton nodded. "And Pierce."  
  
"They are going to kick us out without a chance, aren't they?" Frank asked, his lips set in a grim line.  
  
"No," Fenton denied, sitting down at the counter. "Pierce told Joe to give us a chance."  
  
"But I thought he hated you," Callie said, confusion evident on her face.   
  
"He does," Fenton acknowledged. "But he loves Joe more."  
  
"You think Joe knows Roxy is upstairs working with the girls in their office?" Callie inquired thoughtfully.  
  
"I doubt it," Frank said. "He wouldn't have come down here if he knew it was just us."  
  
Callie stood up. "Where are you going?" Frank asked, his forehead wrinkling.  
  
"I don't think I should be here either," Callie said. "This is between you and Joe."  
  
"You're part of this family," Frank reminded her sternly.  
  
"I know," she said, smiling down at him. "But I think it will be easier on everyone, especially Joe, if I'm not here this morning." Frank frowned. "You'll be fine," Callie assured him, leaning down and planting a kiss on his head before she left.  
  
Frank gave a small sigh. She was right, he knew. But his stomach was in so many knots he needed all the support he could get. If Joe kicked them out, they would never get another chance to set things right.  
  
"Who is going to tell him breakfast is ready?" Laura asked, looking from one brown head to the other.  
  
Fenton rose and made for the connecting door, turning in mid-stride when a knock sounded at the kitchen door. He opened the door to reveal two uniformed officers standing there. "Can I help you?" he asked.  
  
"We're looking for an escaped convict," one of the officers said. He gave a description that fit Pierce. "Have you seen him?" 


	37. Chapter 37

"No," Fenton answered, looking the officer right in the eyes.  
  
"We found the car he stole about a quarter of a mile from here," the officer said, trying to look around Fenton into the kitchen.  
  
"Would you gentlemen like a cup of coffee before you continue your search?" Laura asked, smiling at the two men from the stove.  
  
"Um, no, thank you," was the reply. "Are you sure..." he started.  
  
"You're Fenton Hardy, aren't you?" the second officer asked, finally realizing where he had seen the man before. "I thought you lived in Bayport."  
  
"I do," Fenton said, smiling. "But we're visiting some relatives of ours," he explained.   
  
"Well, I guess you would know this guy if you saw him," the officer said. "His name is Dan Pearson. I understand you arrested him."  
  
"Pearson?" Fenton asked, looking thoughtful. "I believe I remember him," he said a minute later. "He was one of the first men I arrested after I resigned from the police department."  
  
"Any idea where he was headed?" Frank asked from his chair, silently praying Pierce would not enter the room.  
  
"No. Honestly, we were surprised to find he was in the area. It was assumed he would head for Canada but..." he broke off, shrugging.   
  
"If we see him we'll alert you at once," Fenton promised.  
  
"Well, then, we'll leave you alone to enjoy your Christmas Eve," said the first officer, smiling at Mr. Hardy.  
  
"Merry Christmas to you," Fenton replied, trying hard not to act surprised that it was Christmas Eve.   
  
They let out a collective sigh when Fenton closed the door behind the officers. "I couldn't do it," Fenton said. "I know Pierce deserves to be in prison. He belongs there but.."  
  
"But Joe needs him," Frank said, knowing exactly what his dad meant.   
  
"It's what we have to do," Laura agreed. "Whether it's the right thing or not."  
  
Joe, listening at the door, took a deep breath and entered the kitchen. Fenton, Laura and Frank turned to look at him. "If you want to sit down, breakfast is ready," Laura said looking at him, her face breaking into a smile then faltering before turning back into a smile.  
  
"The roads are clear," Fenton said, sitting down beside Frank.  
  
"Joe, before we leave... before you make us... we need to talk," Frank said.  
  
"I'm listening," Joe replied, taking a seat across from them. Laura set a plate down in front of him then took a seat beside him, sitting stiffly.  
  
"Joe, about yesterday. I'm sorry," Fenton began. "I never meant what I said. I..."  
  
"Don't," Joe said. He didn't know what he had expected, but this wasn't it. After standing outside the kitchen door and listening to them lying about Pierce because of him, he had thought, maybe, they would actually talk. But apologizing wasn't talking, it was an excuse. Something he didn't want to hear.  
  
"I'm not," Fenton said, this time capturing Joe's attention. "There have been too many times when I have had to apologize to you," he said. "What I want to tell you is this: I love you. I have always loved you. I don't know for sure what I did to make you feel unloved or to make you think that you were a burden, but it isn't true. I thought you knew how much I loved you but I guess I never told you or didn't tell you enough. But the truth is, you have been everything I ever wanted you to be and so much more. You have never let me down. But I have let you down. I know you've been hurt and I would do anything to make your pain go away."   
  
"Is that what this is all about?" Joe broke in, glaring at Fenton. "You feel guilty so you're spouting all these platitudes?" Joe stood up. "The roads are clear. Just leave and don't ever come back." With these words, Joe strode out of the room. 


	38. Chapter 38

Frank threw his fork on the table, ignoring it as it bounced and flipped off onto the floor. "That went well," Frank said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "'I don't know for sure what I did to make you feel unloved or to make you think you were a burden,'" Frank mocked his father, repeating the lame words he had used.  
  
Fenton leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Hearing his own words thrown back at him, he lost all hope. Had he really been so shallow? "Oh God," he moaned.  
  
Frank shook his head in disgust and got up. He left the kitchen without a word. "Where's Joe?" Frank demanded of Pierce when he entered the living room.  
  
"Can't you people do anything right?" Pierce growled.   
  
"Where is he?" Frank asked again, ignoring the question which required an obvious NO.  
  
"He went out the front door," Pierce told him. "He said he was going to the garage."  
  
"Thanks," Frank said, heading for the door and not bothering to put on a coat. When Frank reached the garage, he saw Joe leaning against the van. He was holding something in his hands which made Frank quicken his pace.  
  
"Joe, no," Frank begged, seeing the barrel of the gun Pierce had held on him.  
  
Joe looked up at Frank. "Go back inside," Joe told him, looking back down at the item in his hands.  
  
Frank came closer and saw with some relief that the weapon Joe held had been disassembled. "Dad hid it," Frank said. "The kids couldn't get to it out here. You didn't need to take it apart."  
  
"I didn't," Joe told him, his voice soft and his thoughts elsewhere.  
  
"Joe," Frank came closer. "You're wrong. You were wrong then and you're wrong now."  
  
"What else is new?" Joe asked bitterly, not looking at him.  
  
"Joe," Frank's voice was pleading. "I miss you."  
  
Joe did not respond. It seemed to Frank like Joe hadn't even heard him so he came closer, stopping mere inches from his brother. "I love you," Frank told him. "I have never stopped loving you. I've never stopped needing you."  
  
"Need me?" Joe demanded, finally looking at him. "What for? To rescue from kidnappers? To pull from burning barns or keep from being beat to a pulp? You don't need me. You never have."  
  
"That's not true!" Frank denied. "Without you I would have been the world's biggest geek. You kept me from taking myself too seriously. You made me go out and experience life when I would have just curled up with a book. Whenever I felt depressed or was about to give up hope, you were there with a smile, a joke, or just a hug to let me know everything was going to be alright.  
  
"I know I hurt you when I doubted you. Me and my logic," he said in self-disgust. "Something else I need you for. Logic doesn't always work." Joe started to speak but Frank continued on. "No, I am not asking or even begging for your forgiveness because even if you gave it, I couldn't accept it. What I am asking you for is another chance. I don't deserve that either but if you will let me, I promise I will never let you down again. Please? If you won't let me be your brother at least let me try to be your friend?"  
  
"Why?" Joe asked, his voice calm. "Why do you keep trying? What more could I have done to get you to leave me alone?"  
  
"The only way I would ever leave you alone would be if that were the only way to make you happy," Frank told him, crying. "You can do and say anything but unless my not being around is in your best interest, then I'm not going anywhere even if I have to camp out in the snow on the highway."  
  
Joe looked into Frank's earnest brown eyes, his own blue ones searching any sign of duplicity. Joe turned around and laid the weapon parts on top of the van. Lies. Someone else's at that, Joe thought. They took so much away from me. And I helped them with my own insecurities. Joe heard a sigh from behind him. Not one of defeat, but one born of frustration. He turned back around.  
  
"I have friends," Joe told him, a tear slipping down his cheek. "But I could use a brother." 


	39. Chapter 39

Frank and Joe returned to the house a few minutes later. Neither spoke as they made their way back to the house, both knowing their relationship could not be rebuilt in a hurry but content in the knowledge they had the rest of their lives to work on it.  
  
Joe stopped just in the doorway. "Pierce?" he asked, shock driving his voice to a whisper. Pierce stood there with a bag in his hand and his coat on.  
  
"Time for me to leave, Kid," Pierce told him gently.  
  
"But the police," Joe objected. "They're looking for you."  
  
"I know," Pierce informed him. "Don't worry about me," he told Joe. "I have actually decided to turn myself in. Next time I escape, I'll make sure it's in the summertime."  
  
"Can't you stay a little longer?" Joe begged, looking at him with pleading blue eyes.  
  
"No," Pierce denied. "I don't want to get you into trouble. I've already told Roxy and the boys goodbye," he added. "You're going to be alright," he continued, glancing at Frank. It was obvious he and Joe had reached some kind of understanding. "But if you ever need to talk to me, you know where to find me. You'll always be a welcome visitor."  
  
"Really?" Joe asked. He knew he still wasn't a popular person behind bars.  
  
"Really," Pierce assured him. "It would kind of make my month if I got to see you at least once in it."  
  
"Back in New York?" Joe asked, his eyes troubled.  
  
"You're going to go back there anyway," Pierce told him. Joe knew he was right. These past few days had been leading up to that.  
  
"Not Bayport, though," Joe said. He couldn't deal with all the stares and whispers he was sure would come his way. He wasn't strong enough, not even with Roxy by his side.  
  
"Anywhere you want," Frank said, putting a hand on Joe's shoulder. "You can stay here if you like and Callie and I can buy some land next to yours and put up a house."  
  
Joe gave a wan smile at that. Frank, it seemed, was still a bit clueless, but he was moving in the right direction. Clueless. Dad! The thought registered with a flash of light. Joe gave a real smile. He grabbed Pierce in a bear hug. "Thank you. For everything."  
  
"What's in the bag?" Frank asked, still suspicious of Pierce.  
  
"Sandwiches," Pierce admitted. "Laura made them for me."  
  
Joe walked Pierce to the door and watched him walk down the drive before closing the door. Frank was waiting silently where Joe had left him. "Want to go and play with your nephews for a bit?" Joe asked. "I need to talk to mom and dad and then, we'll have a real family reunion," he promised.  
  
Frank sniffed, smiled and nodded his head. He went upstairs consumed with the joy of love and the spirit of the season. Miracles did come true on Christmas Eve.   
  
Joe waited until Frank was out of sight then took a deep breath and entered the kitchen. Laura looked up from her task of washing the dishes and moved to his side. He embraced her with an intensity that left her crying with true happiness. Something she had not experienced in a long, long time. When Joe released her, he was smiling. Laura looked over at Fenton then back to Joe who nodded. She patted his cheek then exited the kitchen to give them some time alone.  
  
Joe sat down beside his father who was still oblivious to his presence. His wallet lay on the table and he was staring at something he held in his hand. Joe reached out and took the picture his father held. He could tell it had grown worn from being handled so much. Joe looked at the picture as Fenton stared at him.  
  
Joe saw what he thought was a stranger staring back at him. But he opened his mouth and breathed as he realized it was still him, only younger. Joe looked at his father. "You dismantled the gun before you hid it," he said.  
  
"The kids," Fenton explained.  
  
"Couldn't have gotten to it out there," Joe said. "You did it for me."  
  
"I would do anything for you," Fenton declared. "I just...I just don't know how to make you believe me."  
  
"Ah, Dad. I always thought you knew everything. Could do anything. I've only recently learned that you aren't omnipotent. You're human just like everyone else. I love you," Joe ended.  
  
Fenton looked into Joe's eyes, a hesitant joy lighting his own. "Oh, Baby," he said, tears falling unchecked. "I love you so much. I never thought you could feel the way you did. I..." he broke off. Afraid to say anything that would come out wrong.  
  
"It's okay, Dad," Joe said softly, taking his father's hand.   
  
Fenton pulled Joe to him and buried his face in Joe's hair. "I'm never going to let you go again. Ever!" he declared fiercely.  
  
"Oh, like I'm going to let you?" Joe joked.   
  
"Baby," Fenton said, pulling back and holding Joe's head between his hands.  
  
"Come on," Joe said standing up. "My kids need to meet their grandparents. And then you are going to have to help me move."  
  
"Move?" Fenton asked in confusion.  
  
"I thought we might move to Southport," Joe said as Fenton stood and put an arm around Joe's shoulders. "I have family near there that I would like to get to know better."  
  
The End 


End file.
